


Nothing Else Matters

by Furrina



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Determined!Cas, Disability, Fluff and Angst, Handicapped!Dean, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, PTSD, Physical Disability, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-08
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-18 06:21:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 74,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Furrina/pseuds/Furrina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Major Dean Winchester, Iraq war hero and torture vet, has been coping with his new life in a wheelchair for the past two years, battling with severe PTSD and Depression for the sake of his loved ones. Until he meets Castiel... a man once known as Lieutenant James Novak... the man who saved his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Part 1**

"… _highway to hell… I'm on the highway to hell… And I'm going down… all the way down…  
I'm on the highway to hell."_

Dean banged the final chord before opening his eyes and grinning at his 6 member audience. Ellen smirked at him from behind the bar while Jo and Carmen clapped with their usual gusto. Ash gave a two thumbs-up and winked at him from the pool table. The young couple on a date, who had been ambushed with tonight's special – _**AC/DC**_ – continued to ignore him, just like they had the whole evening.

Dean sighed inwards, the cheerful grin never leaving his face, gently placed the battered guitar, worn from years of use, on his lap before wheeling himself down the short ramp, off the stage. Ellen had installed it as soon the doctor had pronounced him fit to go home.

"Hey honey," Carmen waddled over to him as soon as he was on the flat surface and gave him a quick kiss. "That was good."

Dean smiled, "You know… one of these days I'm actually gonna convince you to run away with me."

"I'm ready. Can your drive carry three people?" She asked indicating her very pregnant belly.

Dean laughed genuinely. "Ash won't mind?" he asked.

"Nah, man… Just take her. It's better than seeing you two flirting right before my eyes," Ash replied shielding his eyes in mock horror.

"Serves you right for stealing her from under my nose," Dean replied half-seriously as Carmen relieved him of his burden before waddling over to her husband to give him a kiss. The kiss turned into a full-blown make-out session that stopped sometime between Ash setting her down on the pool table and Jo whistling and cat-calling. The date-couple was staring at them in horror. Dean laughed.

"Hey Ellen," he moved to the bar. "One for the road?"

"You sure?" Ellen asked sceptically.

Dean gestured to his wheelchair. "How bad do you think it's gonna get?" he asked jokingly, hoping she couldn't catch the despair in his voice. _He was an idiot._

She bent over the bar, making sure that Jo, Ash and Carmen were not looking – which thankfully they weren't – before lowering her voice to a whisper, and asked "Bad day?"

Dean dropped his act, letting his true emotions surface, and sighed wistfully. Ellen nodded and quickly poured a double bourbon. Dean gulped it down in one shot, letting the whiskey slowly burn down his throat and quietly thanked her before turning around, his trademark grin back in place.

Apart from Bobby, his boss at the garage, Ellen was the only he dared to be sad around. He kept even Sam out of the loop these days, because he knew exactly what his loving brother would do. He would come here, pack all of Dean's stuff in his car and take him back to California with him… which was exactly what Dean didn't want.

"Hey Jo!" he called. "Wanna walk me to the car?" Jo walked up to him and guided Dean towards the parking lot.

"How's ma baby?" Dean asked when they were well out of ear shot. Ever since he was stuck with this… thing… it was impossible for him to use his Impala. Bobby had fixed up some van for him – "easier to carry your wheelchair around," he'd said – but it wasn't _his_ _Baby_.

"Well…" Jo stalled. "She misses you."

Dean smiled. If there was one person in the world who could understand how much the car meant to him, it would be Jo. That is why he had handed the keys to her. Sure, Sam had bitched about it for weeks… _for_ _weeks_ … but Dean was resolute. On his first tour, he'd made the mistake of giving her to Sam… and he'd totally douched her up. _Ipod jack!_ _ **Kesha**_ _!_ Dean was pretty sure his Baby had cried blood. At least he didn't have to worry about that with Jo. Besides, he could see her whenever he wanted… even have Jo take him out on drives if the weather was good enough.

"Tell her I miss her too," Dean replied.

"I will" and Dean knew she actually would. This was one of the few quirks they shared… they actually talked to their cars. That and their love for _REO Speedwagon_ … though Jo was the only one who knew about that… and of course, he'd threatened to use his ninja skills on her if she told anyone.

Jo waited patiently until Dean had safely manoeuvred himself in the driver's seat then folded the wheelchair behind him. "You don't have to do that. I can do it myself, you know," Dean protested but… "Not when I'm around, you can't," Jo cut in matter-of-factly. Dean smiled, "All right, ma'am." He tipped his invisible hat to her and started the engine. "See ya around, Jo."

It was just outside the parking lot that he turned on the radio and _**Traffic's**_ _Dear Mr. Fantasy_ filledthecar. _Well, that's just peachy,_ hethought _. Even the Angels are conspiring against me._

The ride home lasted about 10 minutes. Dean parked in his garage and got his wheelchair out. It had taken lots and lots of practice and even more patience, especially on his therapist's part, before he could manage do it on his own.

The phone rang as soon as he shut the door behind him. "Hey Sam," he said without even looking at the id. Apart from Bobby and people at the Roadhouse, Sam and Jess were the only ones who had this number.

"Uncle Dean, don't like rabbit food. I want pie," a little voice asserted. Dean huffed a laugh.

"Hey babygirl! Give your mum the phone, will you? I'll set her right." The phone was handed over to Jessica. Dean could hear his niece smirking. "What is it I hear about you feeding my babygirl rabbit food?" he chided, knowing the phone was on speaker and his niece was listening in.

"I am sorry, Dean…" Jessica replied, knowing the script by heart. "It won't happen again."

"Okay. Now give it to my babygirl," he ordered and the phone was handed back to his niece. "Okay sweetheart… listen… mommy is probably tired so why don't finish your rabbit food and I'll make sure she gets pie for you tomorrow. Okay?"

Deanna mumbled something incoherent and handed the phone back to her mother. "Thanks Dean," Jess sighed. "I don't understand how you are the only one she'll listen to?"

"You named her after me," Dean grinned. "What did you expect?"

Jess sighed smilingly. The next 30 minutes were spent in small talk with minor interruptions like "I hate carrots… carrots are good for you… eat your broccoli… broccoli is blah… if you eat you veggies you'll grow big and strong like Uncle Dean… Uncle Dean has a chair with wheels. I want a chair with wheels…" among other things.

"I'm done Uncle Dean," Deanna replied triumphantly as Dean heard Jess clean away the dishes. "Okay Dean," Jess was back for the last time. "I'm taking her for a bath. We'll call as soon as we're done, so you can put her to bed." The call clicked signalling the end of the conversation.

By the time Jess called again, Dean too had prepped for the night. He was sitting on his bed, a torn copy of _Slaughterhouse_ _5_ on his lap and his guitar – this one a welcome home gift from Sam and Jess after his first tour – by his side. The phone rang and Dean picked it up on the first ring.

"We're all set," Jess said before putting the phone on speaker. Dean turned on his speaker, set the phone beside him and picked up the guitar and started playing _**Zeppelin's**_ _The_ _Ocean_. He finished with "… _Now I'm singing all my songs to the girl who won my heart… She is only three years old and it's a real fine_ _way to start."_

He heard his niece sigh sleepily – another reason he loved her… awesome taste in music – and whisper "good night uncle Dean". "G'night sweetheart," he replied. Then Jess came back on "Good night Dean", "G'night Jess," he replied before clicking the call shut. He didn't believe in goodbyes.

He looked at the clock on his mantle. It was 9:30 PM. He spent the next 3 hours re-reading his favourite book before dimming the lights and drifting off to a fitful sleep.

* * *

"Sammy… Sam!"

Dean shouted into the phone and saw the rookie, Max, jump, hitting his head on the bonnet of the Dodge he was working on. "Sorry," Dean mouthed before continuing with his conversation.

"Sam, how many times do I have to tell you, I am fine?" He didn't know if it was a good thing or bad that he could actually feel Sam bitch-facing at the phone.

"You are in a wheelchair, Dean. You're not _fine,"_ Sam replied _, oh so tactfully._

"Well then… I'm as fine as a man in a wheelchair can be," Dean retorted. This conversation was getting on his nerves. "Look Sam," he continued. "I get it, okay? I get that you are worried about me. But I can take care of myself. I'm a big boy." He hoped this would be enough to get his brother to lay off of him.

"Fine," Sam replied, before half-assedly covering the mouth and saying "you ask him."

Dean waited patiently for Jess to come on the line and start the conversation over, instead… "Uncle Dean, when are you coming?"

_Low blow, Sam,_ Dean thought, before saying "Hey babe, I have some work problems. I'll be there as soon as I can. Okay?"

"Okay," Deanna replied. "Come soon."

"And tell your dad that he is a word you are too young to know for doing this." He waited patiently for her to convey the message to her dad. It was amazing how well his almost four year old niece parroted his messages.

He heard a soft guffaw before Sam was back on the line with, "Jerk! You are corrupting my daughter."

"It's your fault, bitch. You handed her the phone," Dean replied.

"So you're coming, right?" Sam asked again… his childlike enthusiasm back.

Dean sighed. It had been almost a year since he had met his only family… the last time being Christmas, when they had visited him. Now, with Deanna and Jess' schools and Sam's odd office hours it was practically impossible for them to travel all the way out to Sioux Falls. So, they wanted Dean to come visit them. Dean hated the idea of travelling alone, especially given his special dislike for airplanes, but it had been too long since he'd seen his niece. Phone calls and Skype can only do so much, nothing beats the real deal. "Okay," he replied. "But I'm not promising anything."

"That's awesome!" Sam glee'd. "I also have a vacation due… maybe we can go on road trip. You used to love those, remember…"

' _Used' being the keyword,_ Dean thought. Though he still held road trips in extremely high regard, the prospect of being stuck in a vehicle that was not Impala for more than 30 minutes and the hardships of being "that guy in a wheelchair" was not something he looked forward to. Not to mention why anyone would want to go on road trips with him anymore was beyond his understanding. He was slow and crabby and screamed himself awake every night. He wasn't exactly an ideal road-trip material. But he kept it all to himself and listened to Sam excitedly plan a family vacation.

"Hey Max," Dean called on his way out.

Max, a really twitchy kid with history of abuse as long as Dean's leg, looked up from his usual spot on the floor. For some reason, he always sat in the corner behind Bobby's old truck for lunch. Dean's heart went out to the kid. "Ye…yeah?" he stammered.

"Tell Bobby, I'm going to Ellen's."

"Ok…kay," Max stammered.

Dean turned and wheeled himself out the door. "You're not gonna take the car?" Max asked behind him. Dean stopped. "The weather's too nice. I'd rather walk." He mentally cringed as soon as the words escaped his mouth. He knew the guy was looking at his back in sympathy. It was a look he hated. He took a deep breath and wheeled himself down the ramp. Like Ellen, Bobby too had made sure all the exits of his garage were wheelchair friendly.

Dean stepped onto the footpath and wheeled himself in direction of the Roadhouse. The Roadhouse was only two blocks away. Normally, Dean would have taken the car, but today he was in no condition to drive. The nightmare last night had been one of the worst ones. He could practically smell the rotting flesh and blood, and those white _white_ eyes staring at him in _evil_ glee. He had no intention of getting up, let alone going to work, but he still had appearances to keep.

"It not funny," Sam would say. But it was. It was damn funny. How ironic that Dean Winchester, the fighter, the solider, the eternal jock, the one who had played football, baseball, soccer, lacrosse, hiked and drove and enjoyed an active extremely social life and generally took his legs for granted more than any other man he'd met, was stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. But he didn't complain. He had people who loved him, who worried about him – even if that made him uncomfortable – who really cared for him and he wasn't so selfish that he couldn't see how much his being depressed all the time hurt them.

So he put up appearances. Went to work, went to the bar, flirted with girls and let guys buy him drinks, sang for Deanna, talked to Sam and Jess and gave them parenting advice… mostly because he'd practically raised that giant of his brother and knew him better than anyone in the world and by extension his daughter too. But sometimes, he just couldn't do it anymore. Sometimes, he wanted nothing more than to strap into his van and drive off the pier. But he kept fighting. For Sam and Jess and Deanna and all the people who loved him. And today was one of those days.

He was just outside the Roadhouse when he heard it. A low voice… rough and gravelly… accompanied by the guitar.

" _Tell everybody I'm on my way… new friends and places to see. With blue skies ahead, yes I'm on_ _way… there's nowhere else that I'd rather be…"_

Dean stopped short. He knew the voice… some nights it was the only thing that got him through all his nightmares… a safe anchor that gave him the strength to fight...a "Home".

-x-

_**Somewhere in Iraq,** _ _ almost 5 years ago _

_Dean slowly moved his head to the side and cracked his eye open. The dark and the blood made it_ _impossible to see but he could sense that he was still on the rack and he was alone. He couldn't believe_ _that that motherfucker Alistair had left him alone mid-torture. Maybe it was worse than he thought. Maybe_ _he was just hallucinating and the searing pain would soon jolt him back to reality._

_Major Dean "Blood Hound" Winchester, US Special Forces, had been on Alistair's track for the better part of the War._ _Alistair McAllister, aka Ali Sayed Hussain… aka Alfred Edwards… aka Albert Reynolds, was a sadist mercenary who called himself a "Freelance Artist specializing in persuasion and information extraction". He and his partner, known only as 'Yellow Eyes', had been active for more than 30 years, but their artwork on American soldiers in Iraq was what had led Dean on their trail. He was_ this _close to closing in on them when Bela Talbot, one of his best assets and someone he trusted with his life, had betrayed him and handed his team to Alistair on a plate. A part of Dean was grateful that everyone else, including Bela, was dead… at least they weren't suffering anymore._

_But Dean was kept alive because Alistair claimed Dean was his_ masterpiece _. So every morning he got down to work carving and slicing until Dean passed out… then waited until he was awake before starting over. Meanwhile 'Yellow Eyes' tended to his wounds and gave him blood. Maybe he had some misguided sense of righteousness… maybe it was a part of torture Dean didn't know. Sometimes they gave him food… sometimes they didn't… but the blood was always there._

_Dean had no idea how long he was in the captivity… could be weeks, could be years. And the only time they left him alone was at night, when he was trussed in his cell, covered in his own filth. That is how Dean knew this wasn't real. But he didn't care... not anymore. He'd finally lost his will to fight… to live. He hadn't been able to feel his legs for the past few days. He'd even stopped fighting the blood. He was just waiting for the day the Alistair got bored of him and allowed him to die._

_Just then he saw a thin ray of light._ Thisisit _, his half-dead brain told him. Alistair had won… the Angels had lost. He waited for the torture to commence when… "Major Dean Winchester?" the voice was low, soothing… calm. A sense of peace pervaded him. He nodded slightly._ He was already dead, what had he to lose?

_A sharp intake, then searing pain shot through his body as something held his shoulder down and cut his wrist straps. "I am Lieutenant James Novak, United States Marines. We've come to take you home."_

" _Home…" Dean repeated as the hands moved down his torso. "My legs," he remembered. "I can't feel my legs." Those were his last words before he succumbed to exhaustion._

-x- _  
_

Dean couldn't believe his ears. There was no way this was the same guy. He was too forgone with pain… of course, he couldn't remember what the man had sounded like… but this is what he'd imagined it to be.

The song finished and the audience clapped heartily. The man must have been encouraged, because Dean heard him clear his throat and start again.

" _Heart don't fail me now… courage don't desert me… don't turn back now that we're here…"_

Dean gaped. The man was singing a frigging _**Disney**_ song. Dean knew only because Dee was in her Disney phase and forced Dean to watch the movies and discuss them with her – the only time he regretted the fact that he loved her so much.

He pushed the doors open and directly wheeled himself towards the bar. Ellen was sitting behind the counter on the stool and Jo had dragged a chair so she was directly in front of the guy… blocking him from Dean's view. Carmen and Ash were nowhere to be seen. A few of the afternooners, who came regularly for lunch, had stopped eating and were listening intently to the man. Dean couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. The man was good… he was really good. That voice was made for singing… for talking… Hell, he wondered how the man hadn't found his calling as a phone-sex operator yet.

Dean moved to Ellen and she wordlessly handed him a beer. "Who's that guy?" Dean whispered, not wanting to interrupt the man. Ellen shrugged. Dean nodded and moved in direction of his usual table… the one beside the stage, which had a well-worn raincoat carelessly thrown over it and a knapsack and a duffel stacked beside it.

From his new vantage point, Dean could see that the guy was unkempt. He had that whole Hippy Love-Guru thing going for him. He was wearing tattered faded jeans that looked almost white, a white t-shirt and dirty blue shirt over it. The guy was bending low over the guitar and all Dean could see of his face was a part chin and messy brown hair.

The man finished the song, his fingers ghosting over the last few chords and looked up as the entire audience, including Dean, broke into a well-deserved applause. He looked up and Dean could see his face clearly. It was the same guy, alright. Only his hair was a bit longer, he had a couple of days worth of stubble and his cheeks were hollow. A far cry from the crisp clean-cut man Dean had seen in his files. But his blue eyes sparkled with the same intensity as they had in the personnel photograph.

The guy smiled and threw a quick glance over his audience, bowing to each and every one, before settling his eyes on Dean. His tired smile disappeared as his expression slowly changed from confused to knowing to open disbelief. Then he broke into a grin, set the guitar down and strode over to Dean.

"Major Winchester? It's a pleasure, sir!" he said extending his hand.

"The pleasure's all mine, Lieutenant," Dean replied shaking his hand. "I am not a Major anymore. Call me Dean." Dean said dropping his hand and gesturing to the empty seat.

The man thankfully sank down in the chair. "Dean…" he said, as if testing the feel of the word on his tongue. "Castiel," he replied.

Dean did a double take. The man was called _James_ , if he remembered correctly. James seemed to sense what Dean was thinking. "It's my middle name," he clarified. "I go by it now-a-days." Dean nodded. Whatever his name was, this man had saved his life.

"So… what brings you here?" Dean asked.

Castiel shrugged. "Just passing through. I am hiking to Vegas," he replied nonchalantly as though it was the most normal thing. "The last driver dropped me here."

"Hiking? To Vegas?" Dean asked incredulously. In olden days, he had thought about it a lot. A road trip by himself… maybe with Sam… and his car on the back roads of US, with nothing but wind and roads between them. Then he'd enlisted, and every dream had been shot to shit.

Castiel brushed it off, "I like travelling. I'm a nomad at heart."

But before he could comment any further, they were interrupted by a very loud bout of coughing. Dean looked up to see Jo standing behind the man, glaring down at him. He looked around to see the entire bar staring at them. Even Ash and Carmen had made an appearance. Carmen looked as impeccable as ever, but Ash was flushed, his hair dishevelled and he had a foolish smile on his face. Dean understood why they were missing.

He turned his attention back to Jo and beckoned her. She came to stand beside the table, her gaze never leaving his face. Dean felt trapped under it. He looked at Castiel who was giving him an identical look. He sighed. "Castiel, this is Jo. She's like my kid sister, but you'll never catch me saying it," he added smiling. "Jo, this is Castiel." He didn't elaborate further, instead turning his attention to the bar. Castiel followed his gaze. "That's Ellen," he continued. "She's the owner and Jo's mother. And one of the scariest people you'll ever meet. That sex-bomb over there is Carmen," he said indicating the pregnant girl, "and the bum with the bad mullet beside her is her husband, Ash." He leaned forward and lowered his voice a bit, "don't let the appearance fool you. He's a frigging genius with computers… dropped out of MIT because it wasn't challenging enough." He looked up to see Ash beaming at him. "And everybody," he added raising his voice again. "This is Castiel. He's… uh…" He lowered his gaze and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "He's… uh… he's the man who saved my life." He looked up as the entire bar broke out in a commotion.

Suddenly Castiel was the centre of attention. Everyone was making a beeline for him, patting his back, shaking his hand… congratulating him… thanking him for getting their boy home safe. A few of them had brought out their phones and were clicking his pictures. Ellen offered him free lodging and food and drinks whenever he was in town, Ash offered up his special skills, Carmen hugged him and kissed his cheek and Jo gave him her phone no. By the time they were done, Castiel had turned an alarming shade of scarlet and was shaking in his chair.

Dean leaned forward as soon as the last of the patrons had dispersed. "Wanna get out of here?" he asked.

The man relaxed, "Oh… yes!"

Dean beckoned Jo and asked her to pack a couple of lunch specials and told her to inform Bobby that he was taking the day off. Jo nodded before disappearing inside. She returned a couple of minutes later with a large brown bag and handed it over to Dean. Cas pulled out his wallet, but Dean stopped him. "My treat. I never got to say thank you." The man reluctantly put the wallet away and stood up, snagging his raincoat along the way as Dean led him out the door.

"So where's your car?" Castiel asked once they were in the parking.

"Back at the garage. I walked here," Dean replied, before realising he had said 'walked' again. He really had to start using _wheeled_ more often. He waited for the standard pity look, but the man only nodded and gestured him to lead the way.

Dean gave a relieved sigh and turned right. He knew of a secluded spot by the water reservoir that was frequented by horny teens during the evening. It was the closest thing the town had to a lover's lane and it was mostly quiet this time of the day. They could eat their lunch in peace there.

Dean wheeled down the way, Cas walking beside him in silence, the raincoat shushing against his jeans. Once or twice, Dean raised his eyes and looked at him, only to find him staring back. But he looked away as soon as he spotted Dean looking at him and stared at the ground instead. They were progressing quite nicely till they came to a slope in the path. Dean struggled for a bit, until Cas gave an exasperated grunt, took hold of the handle bars and effortlessly pushed Dean upwards. "You don't have to do that," Dean protested.

Dean turned around to look at his helper, but the man was looking straight ahead… concentrating on the road. His expression was calm, no pity or sympathy visible in his eyes, like this was something he did every day. Cas rolled his eyes. "I don't do anything I don't want to," he replied calmly. For some reason, it made Dean feel better.

Cas let go as soon as they were on the flat ground and Dean missed the pressure. He looked at Cas, back at his side, and smiled thankfully. Cas casually returned the smile, then looked straight ahead.

Dean found the spot easily. It had been one of his haunts back in the day. He'd lost the count of girls he'd brought here. He set his wheelchair beside a large boulder and motioned for Cas to sit on it. Cas shrugged his raincoat off and draped it on the rock before sitting down on it. Dean smiled and opened the bag. Ellen, _bless_ _her_ _heart_ , had packed an extra order of fries and an extra slice of pie. Dean extracted her famous bacon cheeseburgers and handed one to Cas, before picking up where they'd left off at the restaurant.

"So Lieutenant… is there a reason you go by Castiel now-a-days?" he asked cheekily. He knew it was none of his business, but from what he'd heard of the guy, he was one of the best trackers they had and had a very bright future ahead of him. Cas looked uneasy and Dean could see he was tensed. "It's… it's okay," he assured. "You don't have to tell if you don't want to."

Castiel took a deep breath. "No! That's alright. Dishonourably discharged," he replied before lowering his voice. "I was deemed unfit for the man's army."

"Oh!" Dean gasped. _Discharged under DADT._ He had lived in that fear himself, until he was assigned undercover missions that enabled him to swing around and chalk it as a part of his cover. His best friend and second-in-command, the late great Gabe Collins, had initiated the idea. Hell, the guy was one-man 'Den of Iniquity' and conveniently blamed it on his job. Dean still missed him after all these years.

They ate in silence until Dean found his voice again. "Thank you," he said.

Cas looked up at him and shrugged. "Just doing my job," he replied nonchalantly.

"I read the files and talked to your CO," Dean replied. "I know how you kept searching for me for _months_ , even though the orders were retracted after a few weeks. I also know how you defied almost every single order to get to me. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't…" Sudden tears sprang in his eyes as he remembered what the man had done for him. He normally never let his guard down before anyone, but this man had seen him at his worst. "Thank you…" he whispered his voice cracking.

Cas didn't know what came over him. He reached forward and gently placed his hand on Dean's knee. He expected Dean to jerk his hand away or look up, but Dean wordlessly placed his hand over Cas' and squeezed it lightly. They sat like that for some time, soaking in each other's warmth, until Dean shook himself and looked up, his eyes still wet. He gave a shy smile before slowly retracting his hand and opening the bag once again. He removed the packaged pie slices from the bag and handed one to Cas along with a plastic spork. "You should try this," he said opening the plastic cover. "Ellen's pies are a legend."

Cas smiled and followed his example. He was lost after the first bite. The pie was amazing. A Perfect combination of fruity, chewy and crunchy. Pure Heaven. He said so, and watched his companion beam with pride. "Be sure to tell her when we get back. Ellen likes to be appreciated for her work," Dean said. They fell back into a comfortable silence, until Cas cleared his throat.

"Is there any place I can spend the night?" he asked. He wasn't really keen on staying at Ellen's following the afternoon's revelation and the reaction that had followed.

Dean nodded. He understood the need to be alone. "You can crash at my place," he offered "for as long as you want."

"No… I… I wouldn't want to impose," the man protested.

"Oh c'mon. It's not imposing among friends," Dean replied. Cas titled his head back and squinted at him. If Dean found it cute he did not mention it. He just shrugged. "You rescued me from hell. The least I can do is shelter you from crazy fans," he grinned.

Cas laughed. A strange throaty laugh that made Dean's stomach flutter. He charted it as nervousness. "Okay," he replied. "But only if you let me help around the house."

Dean nodded, "Whatever."

-x-

The ride was home was filled only with faint strains of _**Zeppelin's**_ _Stairway_ _to_ _Heaven_. Cas was quiet the entire trip and Dean hadn't felt the need to interrupt him. He parked in the garage and struggled to unload his wheelchair, his muscles stiff from all the exertion. However, he was thankful that Castiel hadn't offered to help. Instead, he'd just stepped back and with an exception of "are you alright?" waited patiently until Dean took his time to get down and unlock the door, before silently following him inside.

He dropped his bags by the door, before stocking over to the sofa and thumping down on it.

Dean dropped the keys in a bowl by the door and turned towards his guest. "Uh... make yourself at home," Dean said, quite unnecessarily considering Cas had already removed his shoes and shirt and was sprawled uncomfortably on the couch. He pushed aside the thoughts of how pathetic the guy looked… especially since he knew what he had once been… once more reinforcing the points that "God didn't exist" and "Good things did not happen to good people".

He went into his room, leaving the door open and prepped for the night. Normally this would be the time he would call to check on Deanna, maybe sing her to sleep, but today he was so damn tired and his entire body was on fire, no thanks to the unceremonious overexertion, that he was in no mood to pretend. He just wanted to drop down and let the unconsciousness take over.

-x-

_It was bright. It was so bright, it was blinding. Dean could feel the pressure on his wrists and legs where the leather straps cut into his skin. A rotten stench filled his nostrils but whether it was the room or him, he had no idea. He had already lost the count of days, but in his last bout of consciousness he had heard last of Gabe's screams before they dragged his limp body outside. Gabe had been the last surviving member of his team. He was grateful Gabe had finally escaped this Hell. He was probably in a better place now… maybe even eating desert with the Angels._

_Just then he heard the door creak open and the bastard walked in smirking…_ smirking _! "Well… that was unfortunate," he said. "Seems your friend could not handle a little pain. Anyways… do_ you _have anything to confess today?" he asked rubbing his hands together._

" _Yeah! The day I get out will be the day you regret laying your eyes on me, you bastard," Dean tried his best cocky grin, but it came out as a grimace._

" _Wrong!" Alistair replied as something hot burned into Dean's skin. He screamed involuntarily. "Yes! Scream Dean. Scream for me," Alistair said._

" _Fuck You!"_

" _Wrong!" The stinging continued until Dean's screams were nothing but hoarse whispers._

" _Do you have anything to confess?" Alistair asked again. There was an edge to his voice and Dean could see he was holding something. Something Metallic. Devil's knife! Alistair's signature weapon._ Alistair meant business today. Which meant he was desperate. Which meant Dean still had hope. _Something must have shown in his face, coz Alistair looked at his knife, as if carefully studying it. "What? This little thing? You don't have to worry about this, Major. You have to worry about_ me _. Just tell us what we need and we'll let you go."_

_Dean mustered all the strength he could and spit at his captor. Alistair found it highly amusing. "Wrong!" he glee'd as Dean felt a sharp sting in his abdomen and blacked out._

_When he came to, it was dark. Pitch black and he couldn't breathe. A heavy weight was crushing on his_ _chest, he realised. He tried moving his hands and legs but he was trapped. He wanted to scream for help,_ _but he couldn't give them the satisfaction. He struggled harder, frantically moving his arms with as much_ _strength as he could. Then Alistair spoke up, "Dean…" he whispered from afar… a low rumbling sound._ _"Dean... Dean…"_

"DEAN!" as something yanked the weight away. Air came rushing into his lungs and he was glad he wasn't upright. He would have been knocked back down. He struggled to raise himself as his eyes slowly blinked open.

He was in bed. His own bed… in his own room! He wasn't hallucinating… he really was home. He belatedly realised something cold pressing against his lower back, steadying him, murmuring soft assurances near his ear. He turned in direction of voice and came face to face with the man who had made it possible.

"Cas…" he whispered raising his hand and gently touching the other's cheek. His fingers pricked at rough stubble. He could see the blue eyes wide with concern… not pity, not sympathy… just concern.

"Nightmare?" Cas asked, his voice low… soothing… just like it had been that day. Dean nodded slightly. He couldn't lie to Cas. He didn't want to. This guy had seen him more vulnerable than all the other people in his life combined.

The hand on his lower back moved upwards until it rested on the back of his neck and gently pulled him forward. He went without a fight as strong arms wrapped around him and cradled his head on the strong shoulder. "It's alright," his comforter murmured stroking his back. "It's okay. You're safe now. I got you."

Dean nodded silently into his neck and melted into the embrace. A part of him wanted to break down, but he couldn't. He wrapped his arms around his guest, soaking in his warmth. Finally Cas released him and stood up.

Dean immediately lamented the loss of contact, but this was for the best. The man was tired and Dean didn't want him to leave without getting a proper rest. Plus, there was the fact that _he_ _was_ _leaving_. Dean had no business forcing his sorry crippled ass on this guy, no matter how good his intentions were.

Maybe because he was quite lost in this train of thought that he didn't see Cas shrugging off his jeans, draping them across the back of a chair and turning back to bed. It was only when the bed creaked and Dean felt something warm beside him that he jolted out of his thoughts and stared at the calm face on the other side. "What are you doing?" he asked confused.

"Well… I had a really long day… and I'm really tired… and if you don't mind I'd really like to go back to sleep." With that Cas moved in little closer, draped his arm around Dean's shoulders and gently lowered them both down. The hand around Dean's shoulders moved to his waist, as Cas pulled them both close together.

"Cas… what are you…?"

"Shut up, Dean. I prefer to sleep in silence," Cas cut-in, reaching behind him and putting off the light. Dean hadn't slept in complete darkness for the last four years, but something about the strong arms around him made him feel safe. Like he didn't have to look over his shoulder anymore. He gave in to the heat and draped his arm across the warm waist, closing the tiny distance between them, and cradled his head in the nook of the other man's neck. "Goodnight Cas," he whispered against the warm neck.

"Goodnight Dean," a sleepy voice answered as the arm tightened around him, pulling him even closer, and soft lips brushed against his hair.

Then everything fell silent.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

The first thing Dean Winchester realized when he woke up was that he felt calm. There was no restlessness, panic, urgency that he had woken up to, for the past… hell, for as long as he could remember. He had never slept this peacefully.

The second thing Dean realized was that he was alone. He knew Castiel had crawled into his bed last night and held him. And he had fuckin' enjoyed it! Not that he had ever denied ever having attraction for men. And Castiel, tho' not Dean's type, was sexy enough… but "Dean Winchester don't do cuddling" had been his motto ever since he was old enough to get laid. Especially when there was no sex involved. And comfort cuddling… who was he, Sammy? Well... it was good thing he was gone.

He waited a minute or two, letting his body settle, then slowly dragged himself to the edge of the bed, towards his waiting wheelchair. He was somewhere mid-air between the two, when heard someone outside his door and the door slowly pushed open. His mind shut down and instincts took over as he twisted around to retrieve the gun he usually kept in his night stand. The odd angle, coupled with the fact that he abso-fucking-lutely had no control over his legs, made him lose his balance and he crumpled into a heap on the floor, barely a step from his wheelchair, as a pair of bare feet, extending upwards into a faded blackish pair of sweatpants, entered the room. He lay still, cursing under his breath, and raised his head only when he heard a faint plop.

He looked up to see Castiel standing by the door, carrying a tray, his eyes wide in horror. "Oh, shit!" then Castiel moved forward, placing the breakfast tray on the bed and strong hands under Dean's armpits, raising him to his wheelchair. He was almost in the seat when Dean's mind kicked back in gear. He looked into the bright blue eyes staring into his soul – something that made him feel happy and uneasy at the same time – and hissed, "Get back! I don't need your fucking help."

"Fine!" Cas hissed back and let go, letting Dean fall back on the floor. Dean didn't know whether to be shocked or glad, either way he couldn't meet Cas' gaze. Instead he concentrated in getting back into his chair.

By the time he had finally settled in his chair, Cas was sitting down on his bed casually munching on a generously buttered toast. There was a pot of fresh coffee on the tray along with two mugs. The guy sure had been busy.

"Toast?" Cas offered, dismissively waving at the food.

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. Nope, he had nothing. He opened it again, but closed it back. Nope, still nothing.

"You know… you kinda look like a goldfish," Cas smiled, bringing Dean out of his stupor.

"What's this?" he asked incredulously. Cas tilted back and squinted at him. Dean realized it was the same the expression from yesterday. And it was very cute and made Dean think of…

"Toast," Cas answered braking into his thoughts. "You know, when bread is heated till it becomes brown and crisp." He was staring at Dean like he was idiot.

"No… not that!" Dean glared. "This," he waved his hands frantically between them. "What are you still doing here?"

Dean realized that hadn't come out right because Cas visibly cringed. "Hadn't thought you'd be the kind of man who would kick someone out after sleeping with them," he joked half-heartedly.

"No! That's not…"

"Don't bother," Cas sighed, standing up and raising his hands defensively. "I'll let myself out. I hope you don't mind the simple breakfast. It's all I could fix up with the stuff you had in the house. I was thinking about going shopping but…" he said striding out, "thanks for putting me up last night."

"Wait… Cas," Dean finally got his brain and his tongue on the same wavelength. "Cas… stop," he said following him. "Just wait."

Cas stopped and turned, his face blank, his knapsack already on his shoulder. "What?"

"That…" Dean waved his hand in general direction of his bedroom. "That didn't come out right. What I meant…" he rubbed the back of his neck. "What I meant was… uh… I thought…uh… I didn't expect you to still be here."

"Oh!" The bag dropped on the ground with a faint thud. "Well… you were sleeping so peacefully… and after last night… and I was hungry and… I don't really have anywhere to go… and you did say I could stay as long as I wanted… so… I figured…"

"Cas, you're not making sense," Dean said sternly. Cas fell silent. Dean opened his mouth to speak but something nagged at the back of his mind. "What do you mean you don't really have anywhere to go? I thought you were going to Vegas."

Cas looked like a deer caught in the headlines. Or more specifically a man caught in a lie. He nervously ran his hand though his hair making them stick up in all directions. "Well… about that… it's kind of a long story," he smiled sadly.

"You have to understand," Castiel said, nervously raking a hand through his head, making his hair stick out in all directions, "I am not comfortable doing this." The way he had been scraping at his hair for the past 15 minutes, it was a miracle he hadn't managed to pull them out.

"Yeah," Dean scoffed, "you and me both, buddy." Cas tilted his head back and looked at him. Gosh he had to stop doing that! "What? Talking is Sammy's department. I'm of the 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am' variety."

Cas smiled. "You're preaching to the choir," he interjected.

"But…" Dean pressed on. "I really think of you as a friend. And I wouldn't be me if I didn't at least try to help. And I never rush blindly into a situation without minutely dissecting it first. So I need to know what I've got to work with."

Cas exhaled deeply. "Well…" he paused and scratched his nails against his scalp once more.

"Seriously dude, I thought we already covered that part," Dean protested impatiently.

Cas glared at him and Dean promptly shut up. Cas turned his attention back to the breakfast tray he had retrieved from Dean's bedroom, picked up a toast, broke a piece with his fingers and popped it in his mouth. He mumbled something, his mouth still full.

"What?" Dean asked a hand behind his ear.

Cas sighed. "There were three of us," he repeated a bit loudly, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. "Nick was 15, I was 7 and Claire was 2 or 3, I guess, when our parents died, and we were pushed into the system." Here he paused, waiting for the old memories to settle down so he could proceed. There was a reason he didn't talk about it. "It was hard… the first year. I mean… our lives weren't exactly peaches and cream before, y'know, but afterwards… Nick tried really hard, y'see, keeping us together. But there's only so much a 15 year old, on mercy of total strangers, can do," he paused and absently sipped at his now-cold coffee and shuddered. "Then Claire was adopted. Well, at least I pray she was adopted… she just went missing one night. But no worries," his voice bitter, angry, "children go missing from the system all the time," he spat, his gaze bearing down on the poor wall.

Dean finished his coffee and quietly placed the mug on the table. Cas was still gripping his half-empty long-forgotten mug like a vice. Dean silently reached forward and removed it from his hands. Cas' eyes briefly flashed to Dean's and widened slightly, as if he'd just realised he wasn't alone. Then he let the cup go. Dean gently placed the cup beside his, and waited for Cas to continue.

Cas took a deep breath. "After that it was just us two… and Nick became more determined than ever to keep us together. It started small at first… sucking the foster-people off so I could get an extra ration of food… stealing wallets so I didn't have to ask foster-people for keep money… I was good at studies, the teachers used to like me… So Nick insisted I keep on studying, he would take care of everything. At first I was blissfully ignorant. Nicky would take of everything, because he always did," he paused and looked at Dean, his eyes ghosting with wetness. Dean's hand unconsciously found his and held.

"I was 10 when he was arrested for the first time. Prostitution… theft... a bunch of other minor charges. He got out by agreeing to bend over for the vice cop," the grip on Dean's hand tightened. "I was scared. I didn't want any of it. I knew he was doing it for me and God I hated myself. I just wanted Nicky to be safe, home, with me. But he convinced me otherwise. He always said, 'you are the good son, Jimmy. I am doing this because I believe in you. I know you'll do good and make me proud. And when your ship comes in, we'll leave all this shit behind and never ever look back.' And help me god, I believed him. I did everything I could to help, y'know. Straight-A grades, sports captain, debate champion. The perfect all-round student… Figured if Nick was taking one for the team…" his voice broke away.

"I don't how or when… maybe on one of his inside stints, I guess, but he got mixed up with the local Mob. Took up the name Lucifer – 'after the angel who fell' –started carrying a gun, dealing and shooting up, rising among the ranks so fast... I was scared… I really was. But Nick was always there… 'For you, Jimmy,' he would say 'It's worth it,' and the fucker was such a sweet talker, I would actually believe him. Dream that we really would be happy together," Cas smiled ruefully. "Then one day he showed up outside my foster home with a horribly patched gunshot wound… totally sloshed. This time when he yet again told me to keep studying, he said 'when your ship comes in, leave all this shit behind and never ever look back.' Not we'll leave… just leave. He made me promise. I never said anything, never called him out on it… I guess deep down we both knew Nick was never gonna get out… not alive at least."

"But that wasn't all he was. My brother… he had heart of gold. He started working with good shelters and churches, helping kids who genuinely showed promise. When he realized his baby brother was a queer pansy – tho' woe befall anyone who said that to his face – he issued orders to his people that all fag kids had to be protected. You should have seen the look on Father Greg's face when he dragged a young tranny streetwalker into the church one night and paid her to sleep on the pews," Cas laughed softly letting the long suppressed memory surface. "Maybe that's why people respected him. He had morals and rules – never hurt the innocent… never took from the poor… helped anyone who deserved it… he was like this mini version of Michael Corleone," Cas looked at Dean and smiled sadly. "You would've really liked him… most people did. They called him the 'Devil with a Heart of Gold."

"I was 16 when he handed me a 9mm, but…" Cas smiled fondly at the memory "he threatened me within an inch of my life if I ever used it. Not that I needed to. People feared him. Everyone on the streets knew Lucifer Novak's brother was off limits and people didn't generally cross him, especially those who valued their guts. If anything, I think most prayed that I would end up on the other side of the tracks," he huffed a laugh. "Wonder what they'd say now?"

Cas exhaled and pressed on. "Then he started disappearing… days at a time. 'For your safety,' he would say. There was this guy… Gordon. Led the gang down south… always trying to wheedle in on our territory... break out gang wars. Sadist bastard… had no rules, no morals... preferred to attack the weakness's first. And everyone knew if there was anyone that Lucifer Novak would bend over for, it was me. So Nick mostly kept away."

"Not that it ever affected us. Whenever he turned up at my foster home shot and wounded I looked after him… sometimes, a couple of his buddies too. I really liked Meg, Nicky's girl... she was like a big sister to me, looked out for me when Nick wasn't around. I, on other hand, would take her to the clinic when she couldn't handle her drugs or came on his wrong side... I guess that's why I decided I wanted to be a doctor. When I got my acceptance letter to Chicago U., pre med, full ride, Nick had free booze for the entire 'hood. When I graduated, class valedictorian, top honours, I don't think anyone was more proud in that hall that day. He came to me… eyes bloodshot… looked like he'd been crying. He was wearing a goddamn suit… said he was trying to clean up. He wanted to be respectable… didn't want to people to say 'Dr. Novak's brother is a small time gangster'. He told me he was going away for a few days to take care of some things. That was the last time I saw him."

"A few weeks later, I was walking home from one of my classes when I was attacked by some of Gordon's men. For the first time in my life, I used that bloody thing. My first kill. I'd never been that terrified before… I rushed to Meg, the only one who could possibly find Nick, but even she had no idea where he was. I guess, I knew then and there that Nick was never gonna come back home again. Then came the news that Lucifer Novak, the notorious 'Devil with a Heart of Gold, had been found in a garbage dump just outside of Pontiac. They even had funeral for him. He was buried in the suit he wore for my graduation. Meg OD'd that night. She was buried beside him. Two days later, Gordon's headless corpse turned up in the town reservoir."

"I joined the army to get as far away from all that as I could. After that, the army became my home. I lived my life one mission at a time. It's easy to throw yourself into work when you have nothing else to live for. Figured I was making a difference. I guess that's also why I joined the trackers. I thought about all the people who were waiting for soldiers back home – wives, husbands, kids, families… I thought about Claire and Nick and how if I found to a way to get these people back to their families, maybe karma would reunite me with my family again," He scoffed a dry laugh. "Pretty stupid, eh?"

He looked at intently at Dean, waiting for him to say something. Dean swallowed dryly. This story had hit closer to home than he'd realized. If Bobby and Ellen hadn't been there after dad died, this was how he and Sammy would have ended up. Sammy… scared, alone waiting for his big brother to come back home while he… he unconsciously squeezed the hand he held and looked at Cas and shook his head. "No…" he replied softly. "Not stupid at all." He smiled. "And when the army fired you, you had no place to go," he stated filling up the remaining piece. "How long have you been wandering like this?" he asked.

"Almost two years," Cas shrugged. "I stay if there's work or something. I was about to ask Ellen if needed help, seeing that her waitress, Carmen? is pregnant. But then you came in and I guess I was a bit overwhelmed to meet you… I didn't want you to know the truth. So I said the first thing that came to my mind."

"Then why did you?" Dean asked.

"What?"

"I mean if you didn't want me to know the truth, why did you just pour your heart out to me?"

Cas shrugged. "Well… after last night," he blushed slightly, "I didn't want you to think I had some kind of unfair hold over you. That I had seen you at your worst and was gonna take advantage of it or something."

"So you bared your soul out to me?" Dean asked incredulously. "And what makes you think people don't know about my nightmares?"

Cas huffed a laugh. "If you wanted people to know the truth, you wouldn't be living it up outside and screaming your ass off in the dark here. You wouldn't be grinning like a fool in that bar when the smile never even touched your eyes. You forget, Major," he leaned towards Dean and lowered his voice. "I grew up in a ghetto and have been trained as an interrogator. I take pride in reading people within 30 seconds."

"You got a sassy mouth, Novak," Dean replied. "So what are you planning to do now?"

"I don't know. I really meant it when I said don't want to impose. I'm leaving."

"Where are you going to go?"

"Wherever the first ride outta here goes, I guess."

Dean nodded thoughtfully. "If we hadn't met you'd have stayed right?"

"I guess… if I'd found some work."

Another nod. "How good are you with cars?" Dean asked.

"Not much… but I can fix a few kinks, change a tyre, just basic stuff. Why?"

"Well… the garage where I work needs a mechanic," Dean stopped letting it sink. "The asshole rookie, Max, is such a nervous wreck that we are scared to let him near sharp objects. Andy is a stoner, but great with detailing n stuff, though we are a bit vary of leaving him alone with paint thinner. Don't ask," he said shaking his head. "And then there's me," he added waving at his wheelchair, "I am basically useless when it comes to bending over the hood. So Bobby has me doing books and inventories and shit. That leaves only Bobby the owner, who's pretty much the only full time mechanic right now. Jo helps out sometimes, but we could use another full time mechanic, y'know."

"Why don't you just replace one of the other mechanics, then?" Cas asked curiously.

"Bobby won't have it any other way," Dean replied. "He has this affinity towards abused and abandoned kids. Bobby's dad was the town drunk back in the day… and a wife-beater to boot. Beat them every day till he passed out. Bobby was 15 when he shot his dad in the head to protect his mamma. Of course, she blamed him for her husband's death and cast him out. He was taken in by my grandfather. We are a small town… we look out for each other. He served with my dad during Vietnam. They opened this garage together. Anyone who needed help… anyone with a sob story was welcome. That's how they came across Ellen and Jo. Ellen's husband, Bill, had served with dad and died in line of fire. She had nowhere to go and sought him out. Bobby and dad helped her established the joint. They also had one of those promo deals… y'know… free beer with every full engine service," he smiled. "Ellen held out on her own after that, with her cheeseburgers and pies. She still cooks the food there. Carmen helps out sometimes."

"After dad died, he took me and Sam in... made sure we finished our schools, didn't fall on the wrong path… when Sam wanted to go to college and the money dad had saved wasn't enough, he paid outta his own pockets. Said he had been saving up for his kids someday, and since Sam was as close to a college educated kid as he was gonna get…" he smiled nostalgically. "The day I shipped out, he cried a little. Though I think we'll find you buried somewhere in the scrap yard if you ever bring that up. Then came Andy, abandoned outside a church, raised by anyone who had food or clothes or a bed to spare… and Max, with a dead mom, a shit scared stepmom and deadbeat alcoholic wife-beating dad. I guess that's why Bobby loves him best. Reminds him of his younger self."

Dean shook himself. "Anyway… that's enough sob stories for today. You agree or not?" he asked in finality.

Cas nodded. "Yeah… I could do that. But I still got no place to stay. I mean I don't want to crash at Ellen's. I'd fear for my virtue there," he feigned a shudder to clear the air.

Dean grinned. "Good boy. You should be afraid… Jo's relentless. She still hasn't given up on me, even though she knows I don't really swing that way anymore," Dean smiled pointedly. "But she's cool like that. And you can keep staying here… I have 3 bedrooms… I use one… one's for Sam and Jess when they come to visit and the third that belonged to my parents. I'm not really comfortable sleeping there… but you can have it. You'll need to air it out a bit though." He paused and looked and the clock on the mantle. He needed to be at garage, like, 45 minutes ago, but he guessed Bobby would understand just this once. Still he had to put in an appearance. "I need to get going," he told Cas. "Are you gonna come or do you want to settle in first?" he asked.

Cas thought for a minute. "I can always unpack at night," he finally said. "And I'm already showered, so I guess I'll come with you. There's no place like today."

Dean nodded and went back to his room to get ready.

* * *

One hour later, Castiel was standing beside Bobby getting a basic tutorial in truck engines.

When Dean first entered, Bobby had practically torn him a new hole but his whole demeanour changed when he saw Cas behind him. He had shook his hand, awkwardly man-hugged Cas and patted on his back thanking him for getting the idjit home. He said idjit like he was talking about a snot-nosed 10 year old, not a 34 year old man who was scowling at him. When Dean explained why Cas there, he had more than obliged. Cas was then introduced to Max who stuttered his greeting before turning back to his car and Andy who pressed flush against him and proclaimed 'you have stars in your eyes, man… your hair so soft…' before offering to hook him with all the weed he wanted. Then he went back to painting a Camaro bright cherry red.

At lunch, Jo came in and dropped two lunch specials – one for Dean, his usual, and one for Cas, on the house.

On the way back, Cas insisted on stopping at the market to buy some groceries for the house. This basically led to a few more thanks and congrats – because news travels fast in a small town – a couple of free coupons and dinner invitations – which were gracefully declined – and a few more phone no.s slipped not so discretely in Cas' pockets. Apart from that, everyone had pretty much given them the wide berth.

All in all it was one of the good days.

* * *

Which is why Dean feared the night. Mainly because Sam hadn't called the whole day. And though he wanted to believe that The News hadn't reached Sam yet, which was highly unlikely, the possibility that he was waiting to ambush Dean when he couldn't escape was as big as his brother's hair.

Sure enough, there were 10 voicemails waiting for him. Each one telling him to call as soon as he and Castiel reached home… each one sounding more and more like a 13 year old girl closing in on Justin Beiber after the concert. He was gonna have to talk to Jess about that some day.

"Oh, c'mon," Cas spoke up, when Dean replaced the receiver in its holder for the third time. "I mean how bad can it be? It's not like he can stop you from keeping whoever you want in your house. At the most, he'll get a bit angry, but there's nothing more that he can do, right?" he added reassuringly.

"That's the thing, Cas," Dean replied smirking. "He's not going to stop you from living here. I'm pretty sure he's planning our big gay wedding right now… and he's gonna embarrass the fuck outta me by asking you to choose between magenta and fuschia centre-pieces," Dean shuddered, remembering Sam's freakout at his own wedding. "I still don't know what the heck is the difference. They're both pink. But I guess what has to be done, has to be done. You can't escape your destiny." He picked up the phone and dialled.

Sam picked up on the third ring. "Ohmygodisittrueisitreally him?" he asked breathlessly, imitating a 13 year old girl who was told Justin Beiber was finally ready to meet her.

"Online… 30 mins," Dean replied gruffly before cutting the call.

"Are you always this rude to your brother?" Cas asked unhappily.

Dean smiled and shook his head. "Only if he starts acting like a 13 year old chick at Beiber concert. I swear I really am a nice guy," he said raising his hands defensively. "Besides… I gotta pee first."

By the time Dean had bathed, changed, locked up and connected online, Cas too had finished unpacking and freshening up. When he walked in Dean's bedroom that night, he was wearing the black sweat pants from the morning and a faded yellow t-shirt that looked like it had seen better days.

He fell down on the bed behind Dean and waited.

"Hey Sammy," Dean said as soon as his brother came on the screen. Cas noticed a faint crack in his voice… like the one he had usually heard in Nick's when talking to him. Dean really loved his brother. "How's it going?"

"Good," Sam smiled. "How're you holding up?"

"Oh you know…" Dean grinned. "My back feels like shit… I can't walk… Jo's driving my baby… I got a familiar stranger…" he looked back at Cas lying on his bed and smiled. Cas smiled at the roof, "crashing at my house… so just peachy as always."

"Dean!"

"S'okay, Sam. I fine. How's my babygirl? When's she coming in?"

Sam smiled devilishly. Dean didn't like that look. "Jess just finished feeding her and took her for her bath. So it's gonna be a good half an hour at least."

Dean cursed under his breath. Jess had made sure Dean couldn't use Dee as an excuse to get out of the upcoming interrogation. He looked at the excuse of a poker face his brother was trying to keep, a million thoughts fluttering around in his eyes. "You should really work on your poker face. I can see the tells in your eyes."

"That's because you're a freak of nature," Sam piqued. "My poker face's awesome. Even Zach thinks so."

Dean laughed. Yup! Sammy was a 13 year old girl. He wondered how the heck anyone had made him the youngest Legal Executive at the Smith and Wesson Pvt. Ltd. But then Sam was really good at his job… whatever it was. Otherwise he wouldn't be playing poker with Zachariah Smith himself. "You are the freak of nature," he replied instead.

"But you still love me."

"Yup! And I hate myself for it. I know you're over-brimming with questions. Better start asking before your giant head explodes and the world laments the loss of the last surviving Sasquatch."

"Shut up," Sam blushed. "Okay…" he took a deep breath. "First… what's his name?"

"Castiel," Dean replied. "His name is Castiel."

"Castiel? Ohmygod, it's an angel right?"

Dean rolled his eyes. Sammy was probably having a nerdgasm of some sort. Even after 30 odd years, he still couldn't believe they actually shared genes. He shrugged and turned to look at the man behind him.

Cas was still lying flat on his back, but he had raised his head on his elbows and was looking at him with half-lidded eyes. He shook his head and sat up. "I think so," Cas replied. "I was named after an eccentric great uncle. He'd left my mom a bunch of money in his Will and she expressed her gratitude by naming me after him. But he did have brothers named Raphael and Uriel and my grandmother was named Anael. So I guess it's possible."

Dean conveyed the message. By the time he finished, Sam was squirming and twisting in his chair, straining to see behind Dean. "I'll save you the trouble, Samantha," Dean murmured moving away from the screen so Sam could have the clear view of the bed and the man on it.

"Hey Castiel," Sam blushed and fluttered. "I've heard a lot about you." And the 13 year old girl finally comes face to face with Beiber.

"Hey Sam," Cas replied."I've heard about you too." And Dean could swear Sam was holding onto the desk to not fall off his chair. _OHMYGOD‼ Justin knows I exist!_

They talked for a few minutes after that, wherein Dean zoned out and replayed it in his head as the conversation between the said fangirl and Justin. He was really proud of his fawning fangirl of a brother for successfully forming coherent sentences and getting them out of his mouth.

Then Samantha squealed, "Oh my god, Justin, do you have a girlfriend?" and Dean jolted back on earth. Wait, what? He looked at the people having a blissful conversation before him.

"Not really my thing," Justin… er, Cas!… replied.

"What?" Sam asked oh so innocently. "Relationships or girls?" Dean raised his eyebrows and shook his head, hoping Cas wouldn't fall for the bait.

Unfortunately, he did. "Both," he replied quickly before realising what Dean was trying to say. His eyes widened and he blushed. Dean acknowledged he really loved a blushing Castiel.

"Hmm," Sam hummed triumphantly. Dean hoped Dee would puke on him just to wipe that silly smirk off his face. "So… Castiel… you're gay?" he pressed for confirmation. Cas nodded. "Did you know Dean's bisexual?" Sam asked, not really trying to hide the fact that he was trying to set them up.

Dean finally found his voice. "SAM!"

"What? I'm just saying…it's nice to have someone around, right?" Innocent puppy-faced Sam was back. "Right Castiel?"

Cas opened his mouth but Dean glared at him and he shut it. "That's it, Sam. I'm going to bed," Dean hissed through his teeth.

"Oh, hey Dean," Jess interjected on cue, coming to stand behind her husband.

Was she waiting in the wings? "Hey Jess," Dean replied smiling. "How're you?"

"Oh, good. Good." She peered at the screen. "That must be 'Batman'," she said looking at Castiel. Dean gritted his teeth. He hoped Cas hadn't heard that last part, but Cas had already come to crouch beside him, a questioning look on his face. Dean shook his head silently saying, "Not now", even as Sam explained, "Y'see Dean always said that if he was ever in trouble, the only person who could save him, without him having his mancard revoked, was Batman. So that makes you 'Batman'."

Cas looked at Dean, his lips curled upwards, amusingly staring at Dean. "I'm Batman," he simply stated. "So I guess that makes you Robin," he grinned. Sam and Jess shared a look of their own and grinned. _Oh God… Kill me_ , Dean thought turning a special shade of magenta.

But apparently Sam hadn't finished embarrassing him yet. Now that Cas was standing so close that his features could clearly be seen halfway across the country, Samantha spoke up, "Wow Cas! You have such lovely eyes."

_He had no brother!_ He was gonna bury his head in the sand and pretend like he didn't exist. "Do you want to lick them too, Sammy?" he retaliated. _Eye for an eye…_ Jess laughed and Cas had tilted his head back, looking at him in confusion. "There was this girl he liked," Dean explained. "She had lovely eyes… greyish blue with a tinge of yellow and green… the best set of eyes I've ever seen… and Sam wanted to lick them off, because they reminded him of rainbow ice-lollies."

"I was nine, Dean!" Sam groaned. _Mission accomplished!_

Cas straightened his head. "But I really love my eyes Sam. They've stars in them," he said it so innocently and with such perfect poker face that Dean could've kissed him. Instead he doubled over laughing. Soon Jess joined him, then Sam until all four of them were sputtering out in breathless guffaws.

Just then Dean noticed Jess was swaying slightly on her feet. "You okay, Jess?" Dean asked suddenly concerned. "You look beat."

"Yeah… yeah… I'm fine. Just… The kids were extra annoying today," she replied waving away the chair Sam offered with her right hand, while her left found the small of her back and started rubbing circles in it. "And Dee was missing you a bit too much. I'm pretty sure she's still sitting upright in her crib playing with Uncle Dean."

Dean smiled. He had given Dee a teddy bear for her 1st birthday and she had promptly started calling it Uncle Dean. She dragged the poor thing around everywhere. "I'll take care of that in minute," he replied, his eyes moving from her face to the hand that was still absently rubbing her back and back to her face and back. His eyes widened slightly as he came to a conclusion. It must have shown on his face, because Sam was looking at him with interest. He grinned, "Oh my god! Congrats Jess‼ Why didn't you tell us? How far along are you?"

Suddenly as if the director had yelled "action", the entire set sprung to life. Jess paled and started muttering "but… how? nevermind… I just… how?" Sam jumped up and all but pushed Jess down on the chair he'd vacated. Cas who had been crouching beside Dean's chair fell down with a thud, then stood up, openly gaping at him. Then everything stilled at once. Dean looked between Sam and Jess, confused. "You are pregnant, aren't you?" he asked, suddenly nervous that his assumption might be wrong.

"Yes," Jess spoke up, "Maybe. I don't know," she replied her shoulders shagging. "I think so," she replied finally settling on an answer. "I was waiting until I got the confirmation. I didn't want to disappoint you guys again." She said.

Dean pursed his lips and looked at Sam. He knew Sam and Jess had been trying for another kid since Dee was 1, but a few false alarms and a couple of miscarriages later, they had all but given up hope. "Jess…" he smiled as Sam crouched down beside the chair and cradled her close. "You can never disappoint us. Now get your ass into bed and get some rest. Me and Sam will put Dee to bed."

Jess nodded thankfully, blew a kiss towards the screen with "Good night, Dean," and went away. Sam also stood up, "I'll get her," and walked away. Dean then turned to Cas who was still gaping at him. "What?"

"That?" Cas asked disbelievingly. "How'd you do that?"

"Dunno," Dean shrugged. "I've this thing. When it comes to people I'm very close to, I just… know," he was cut off by Sam appearing with a squiggling Dee, holding her teddy bear and ready to leap at the computer, in his arms.

"Whoa… whoa… Easy there, tiger," Dean cajoled. Dee giggled but calmed down. "Had a good day at school?"

Dee nodded emphatically, then grabbed at the screen. "Led!" she squeeled.

"You want me to sing Led song?"

"Yeah," she giggled again. "Dee's song."

"You want me to sing Dee's song?"

"Dee's song," Dee stated crossing her arms over chest, her teddy squashed in her armpit, and glaring at the screen like her grandpa. Where she had picked that, Dean had no idea. Maybe it was the Winchester gene.

"Hand me that guitar, will you?" he turned to Cas. Cas handed him the guitar beside his bed, then went outside and dragged a dining chair planting it beside Dean. "Okay... We've done four already but now we're steady. One, two, three, four," Dean said in the deepest voice he could muster, as his fingers traced the opening chords.

_"Singing in the sunshine, laughing in the rain… Hitting on the moonshine, rocking in the grain…"_

He finished with, _"Sitting round singing songs 'til the night turns into day… Used to sing on the mountains but the mountains washed away… Now I'm singing all my songs to the girl who won my heart… She is only three years old and it's a real fine way to start."_ He ghosted his fingers on the remaining chords and looked up to see Dee already tittering on the edge on consciousness. The sudden transformation never ceased to amaze him.

"More…" she said sleepily. Dean sighed and started once more. Cas joined him at the second verse. By the time the third repetition ended, Dee had already fallen asleep. Even Sam had started nodding off. Cas was the only one singing and Dean was quietly playing the guitar, strategically placed to hide his raging erection. _Things that voice did to him…_

"Night Dean," Sam murmured, standing up as soon as the song got over.

"G'Night Sammy. I'll talk to you tomorrow," Dean replied, shutting off the computer. He wanted the gathering to get over as soon as possible, so he could have place to himself. He placed the guitar in his lap to hide the telltale tent and turned to main cause of his discomfort, "I think you too need to get going."

"Are you alright?" Cas asked. "You are sweating profusely."

"What? This?" Dean asked swiping a hand across his forehead. "It's nothing. I have this night sweat thing. It's perfectly normal… You don't have to worry about it," he said pulling at his tee's neck. If Cas didn't stop talking and take those ocean blue eyes away from him, he was gonna shoot all over his boxers.

"Do you want me to do something?" Cas asked… as Dean gulped visibly.

"No… no! Nothing. You just… go."

"Are you sure? Should I take the guitar at least," Cas pressed, concern furrowed into his brow as he reached for the only thing protecting Dean's virtue.

"No!" Dean exclaimed pulling it back into his lap. "Just go…" He all but pushed Cas out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

"Dean?" Cas was still outside his door. "Dean, are you alright? Should I do call someone? Dean, say something!"

"Jesus fuck Cas, leave me alone!" Dean shouted at the door.

"Fine!" Cas spat and Dean could hear the footsteps walking away from his door.

_How could that guy turn him on with just a look and a voice?_ Dean wondered as he climbed into his bed and pushed his restraining boxers out of the way. That night he touched himself for the first time in almost two years and came down hard with Cas' name on his lips.

And when Alistair paid him a visit that night, he could see flashes of brown and ocean blue battling for his soul. And he knew he was going to be okay.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter contains mention of male rape when Dean was in captivity, and a very vague reference to… Well, it's very vague, so if you don't get it… well, keep reading it's not really of much import anyway. Just a bad dream. And if you do get it, try not to think too much and move on… lots of good things follow.
> 
> P.S. In case you're wondering what Castiel was humming while making pancakes, it's "Today My Life Begins" by Bruno Mars

Their first day as official roommates went well. Or at least as well as Dean could've hoped for.

By the time Dean got up, which by the way was 6.30 AM, Castiel was already up and about. When Dean rolled himself towards the bathroom, he saw Cas flipping pancakes in the kitchen. He stopped to take the sight before him. Cas, freshly showered – Dean realized this because his hair was still glistening and his skin had reddish tinge to it. _Damn observational skills –_ was wearing a pair of faded denims and a black tee, looking perfectly at home on his knees before the lowered stove, humming contentedly. Dean watched as Cas poured a cupful after cupful of batter into the greased pan, expertly flipping the half-cooked pancakes with a flick of his wrist, before flipping them again onto a neat little stack on the plate beside him. As he watched the slow progressing scene before him, his thoughts wheeled themselves to far off and exotic places where he imagined even better scenarios for Cas to be on his knees, looking up at him with those wild blue eyes and humming quietly in that low rumbling voice.

And then Cas coated two of his fingers with the last of the batter, slowly sucking them into his mouth. Dean flinched as his cock gave a slight twitch. If Dean hadn't been as quiet as he thought he was, or if Cas had given any indication that he knew he had an audience, Dean would have sworn he was being a tease. Instead the poor guy had no idea he was playing the lead in his roommate's lewd fantasies. It kinda made Dean feel like a _Peeping_ _Tom_ , but damn if it wasn't hot. So he sat quietly as Cas put on a damn good show, alternately swiping his fingers across the mixing bowl and licking and sucking on them, making pornworthy noises.

It was only when his cock started screaming for attention that Dean grunted loudly and shook himself out of his daze to find Castiel, still on knees, staring at his crotch, the last remnants of batter on his lower lip and an amused smile on his face. Dean glanced down to look at the horribly obvious tent in his boxers and flushed tomato red as he looked back up and his eyes met Cas', waiting for him to bolt towards the nearest exit. Instead Cas stood up, slowly swiped his tongue across his lower lip to suck the batter in – Dean's cock gave another scream – then pointedly smiled at his crotch and said, "You should take care of that." Dean gulped loudly and nodded, before turning in direction of the bathroom, to finally finish the task he had set out to perform, mentally cursing Alistair for taking away any chance he had of having anything normal. Ever. "Hurry up," he heard behind him. "Breakfast's a-waiting."

-x-x-x-

_When Dean came back to consciousness, he was still strapped on the rack, butt naked. It was like after Gabe was gone they hadn't even bothered to take him down. He saw the blood bag on the pole beside him, the tube trailing to his strapped arm, ensuring he did not pull it out like last time, and felt stitches pull across his abdomen and chest. The past few sessions had been all about getting acquainted with the Devil's Knife._ Yellow Eyes has been busy, _he_ _thought_. _As was his standard ritual when he became conscious, he wiggled his limbs to check whether or not they were all functioning. He was surprised to find that all his limbs were, in fact, working. How the hell had Alistair avoided damaging any major organs, was a mystery to him. The bodies they'd been "gifted" had always been mutilated beyond recognition._ So why the heck was he still in one piece?

" _Oh! Hello, Major," Alistair said coming into the room, shaking the crumbs of his shirt. "Glad to see you've finally decided to join us for tea," he said cheerfully._

" _Alistair…" Dean groaned. He was sure his vocal chords had been damaged permanently. "Nice to know you offering me some," he replied cockily. "Can I have some biscuits to go while you're at it?"_

" _Sure… sure," Alistair smiled happily. "I'll make you a deal, Major. You tell us what we need to know, and you can have all the biscuits you want," he smirked._

" _I've already told you what need to know, Alistair," Dean replied hoarsely, the conversation taking a toll on him. "You can take your deal, and stick it where the sun don't shine."_

" _I meant to bring that up," Alistair replied, pleased that the conversation was going where he wanted. "Y'see…" he said turning to Yellow Eyes who had appeared behind him. "'I always wondered why Major doesn't give a shit about our personal sessions," he mused. "But then I discover that Major here is a swinger." Dean grimaced, knowing what he was talking about. "I never realized our personal sessions were as pleasurable to him as they are to me," he smiled sweetly at Dean. "Isn't that right, Major?"_

" _Fuck you!" Dean spat mustering all his strength. Ever since his capture, he had been raped more times than he cared to count. It didn't bother him. Like everything else, he could endure it. But this… the way Alistair was smiling like he was the fat kid in an all-you-count-eat candy store… bothered Dean more than anything that'd ever been done to him._

" _Ah… so you_ do _know what I'm talking about," Alistair nodded happily. "Now Major… I'm gonna ask you one last time, is there anything… anything at all… you wish to share with us?"_

" _Do your worst," Dean whispered draining the last of his energy._

" _Be careful what you wish for Major," Alistair warned, as Dean felt the pressure on his ankle straps release and saw his knees being pushed up against his chest. His mind found purchase in the memory that he always fell back on during these times… him at 4 years old, sitting on his bed at night, while his mother cradled new born Sam at her breast, singing 'Hey Jude.' Then she tucked him in his crib and turned to Dean, on his tiny little cot, whispering, "Remember, love, the angels are watching over you," as she tucked the blankets in under his chin and kissed him good night._

" _The Angels are watching over me." That's what he prayed every time Alistair came at him with a new toy. And that's what he was praying when he saw Alistair maliciously cradling his Devil's knife. His eyes widened and he swallowed a gasp, as he realized what was going to happen. His nails scraped hard against the cold metal surface and his entire body convulsed in blinding pain, as he shut his eyes tightly, and went back in time to see his 9 year old self clutching to his mother's wasted body for the last time._

_That was the last time he felt his legs._

-x-x-x-

But now when he lowered himself butt naked into the hot tub, his thoughts weren't of evil white eyes, or mocking yellow ones. His thoughts were centered on the warm pair of blue eyes, belonging to the man in his kitchen.

His hand gripped his erection, as he thought of Cas kneeling on the floor, and started stroking to the image of Cas sucking pancake batter off his fingers. The more batter he sucked, the faster the strokes became, and louder their moans… until the Cas of his imagination was practically begging for the batter and Dean in the bathtub was fucking his own hand, tittering just along the edge. But it was only after Cas of his imagination acknowledged Dean's presence and gave him that crazy smile and huskily said, "come for me, Major," that Dean felt his balls tighten and erupted all over his hand. He waited in the tub, filled with water and his cum, for his breathing to settle, then drained it and filled it afresh.

He heaved himself upwards and reached for the shampoo and bath gel kept within an easy reach, blaming Carmen for burdening him with useless Natural shit like _Jojoba_ shampoo and _Sandalwood_ - _Turmeric_ bath gel. Why couldn't he have simple chemical-ridden 10 dollar crap like a normal person? He was surprised to find the bottles almost wet, and realized that Cas must've used them when having his bath. It alone was enough for his dick to come back to life. As Dean poured a dollop of shampoo on his palm, he imagined Cas' fingers gently massaging his scalp. Gel replaced shampoo as lean fingers moved down his torso, skillfully, expertly caressing each and every part of his body like he flipped the pancakes.

When he finally reached for the washcloth, he noticed that apart from his own, there was another slightly wet one belonging to Cas, and chose it without hesitation. He roamed the rough fabric all over his body, scrubbing softly. _He knew he was acting like a total pervert, but this was probably the closest he would ever get to the blue-eyed enigma, that was Castiel._ He rinsed the washcloth and replaced it back in its place. He drained the tub again and reached for the state-of-the-art hand-held shower that Sammy had installed. It was one of the few things that made him glad that his baby brother had the means and the will to spoil his elder brother.

He drained the tub for the last time, raised himself onto the edge of the tub to reach for one the towels and was surprised to find them straightened and neatly folded in exact half across the bar, like the way you find in high-class luxury hotels. He dried himself thoroughly then carefully using his useless legs as support, leaned back and raised himself just enough to wrap the towel around his waist, mentally blessing Lisa, his therapist, once again for having enough patience to make him independent enough to have a semblance of normal existence.

He moved from the edge of the tub to his wheelchair, when he saw his reflection in the full length mirror – one of the few things that made him uneasy that his baby brother had the means and the stubbornness to overindulge his elder brother – and noticed that he was naked from the waist up. He grabbed another towel from the bar and draped it across his shoulders. Even with all the plastic surgeries he'd had, his body still had enough scars to make _**Evel**_ _**Knievel**_ blush. He tucked the loose corners into the towel wrapped around his waist and making sure it did not fall off, quickly wheeled himself towards his room.

It was a combination of his upbringing and his job that Dean never selected his clothes before heading for the bath. That way no one could possibly mess with them. _One can never be too careful in the hostile territory._ But today, as he wheeled himself inside his room, he found that not only his clothes had already been selected for him, they were neatly laid out on his bed… warm and pressed. Evidently _someone_ had wasted no time to go through his stuff without any consideration of personal space. _And where the heck had Cas found an iron?_

But even though he wanted to call and chastise Castiel for going through his dresser without his permission or so much as a forethought, another, more desperate and very vocal part of him longed for this… whatever it was… and against his better judgement and with million reasons of "why this is a very bad idea" going through his head, he quietly dressed himself in the clothes – a black tee-shirt and dark green short-sleeved shirt, faded blue overshirt and a pair of faded denims – Castiel had laid out for him.

-x-x-x-

When he wheeled himself into the kitchen/dining for the second time that day, Dean made sure he was as loud as possible, so Cas wouldn't feel like he was being snuck up on. But Cas stayed still until Dean took his place opposite him, then silently stood up and started serving. He didn't comment on Dean's clothes except "green brings out the colour in your eyes" and Dean felt very happy with himself.

The breakfast – pancakes served with Blackberry jam and Blueberry honey-and-Maple syrup, because _"experimentation is the key to happiness"_ – was a quiet affair. Cas had no qualms tucking into his plate with gusto, but Dean couldn't stop relishing each bite and moaning his approval, and sounding like Meg fucking Ryan in the process because it really was fucking amazing. The tastes meshed perfectly as the whole thing melted on his tongue and tingled the senses he had no idea existed. He felt like that fat rat in _**Ratatouille –**_ Dee was a bad influence – tasting his first cheese. He could see the tastes and smell the colours and all that jazz. By the time he cleaned off his plate, fighting a severe urge to lick it clean, he was left breathless… wanting more.

_Shit! If Cas kept cooking for him like this, he would_ have _to ask for his hand in marriage._ Pushing that thought aside, he looked up to find the intense blue eyes and a complacent smile looking back at him, and he was thankful he was in a wheelchair or he'd be down on one knee right this second. Instead, he forced himself to return the smile and said, "That was amazing, Cas."

"Well, they do say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach," Cas replied with a tilt of his head.

Dean had no idea how to respond to that, so instead he said, "We have to get going, else Bobby _will_ tear me a new one."

Cas nodded, pushed back his chair, cleared up the plates and washed them in the sink, giving him a stinking eye in the process because "I don't do _anything_ I don't want to", and went out to sit on the couch waiting for him to finish up. Dean, meanwhile, locked all the windows, checked then rechecked them – he knew he was being paranoid, everyone told him so, but that's how he was… deal with it – then retrieved his keys from the bowl by the door and went to his car. Cas quietly followed him, waited until Dean was perfectly settled in the driver's seat, before opening the passenger door and climbing in.

-x-x-x-

They arrived at the shop with barely 10 minutes to spare. Dean parked in his allotted space beside Andy's mobile home… a dark blue van with "Barbarella riding a Polar Bear". Cas got down and, as usual, waited until Dean was firmly on the ground before following him indoors.

As soon Dean entered he knew something was wrong. Everyone was sitting in his office, just as they did every day before opening, but Bobby was sitting behind Dean's desk, the phone askew, eyes bloodshot, hand pressed to his temple and breathing rapidly like he did when his blood pressure became too high, Andy had paled and was blinking rapidly, looking very guilty and, if Dean didn't know better, sober, and Max was on the verge of tears. Dean took in the scene before him, before silently wheeling himself to his desk, taking out the prescription bottle from the false bottom of the second drawer, and handing a pill to Bobby. He waited until Bobby had gulped it down, mentally reminding himself to change the hiding place, before asking the obvious question, "what's wrong?"

"We're overbooked," Bobby replied wearily. "Apparently _someone,"_ he glared pointedly at Andy, trying to burn holes through his skull, "can't keep their friggin' trap shut. The phone's been ringing off the hook. The entire town has cropped up car trouble overnight. We have," he consulted the roster before him "10 tire bursts, 8 overheated radiators, 1 broken axle, 5 oil changes, 4 dented fenders, 3 minor paint jobs… Oh, and Mrs. Cage managed to crash her car. _Again_. Her front needs the works." Andy chuckled at the childish joke and Bobby shot him a _look_. He went back to examining his shoes. "And this is just 'urgent'. You want me go on?"

Dean shook his head. _The people never ceased to surprise him. Just when he thought they couldn't get any crazier…_ he turned to look at Cas who was gaping at them. "Earth to Castiel," he called. Castiel snapped up and looked at him. "Can you handle the tires?" he asked. Cas nodded in affirmative. "Good," Dean replied.

Cas looked in wonder as Dean took charge of the situation, transforming from the blushing, moaning guy of the morning into a seasoned warrior, leading his men into straight into the battle. He could swear Dean had grown an inch or two in the last two minutes – back straight, arms steady, determined look on his face, crisp no-nonsense attitude – as he issued orders to the eager ears, everyone trusting him to lead them on the right path.

"Andy, you go do your thing. And stay away from the varnish. If I find you high or passed out again, I swear to God I'm gonna graffiti on your Barbie," Andy looked horrified but nodded in understanding. "Max… Max! Pull yourself together. You're handling the oil changes and radiators. And Bobby," he turned to his boss, "Call Jo. Tell her I need her here. Pronto. And then go upstairs, shut the door and put on Beethovan, or Mozart or whatever it is you like to hear, on full volume and go to sleep. If I find you lurking around in the garage before closing time, I shoot you in the leg. _Capish_?" Bobby slumped further in his chair, but nodded in understanding. "Good. I'll handle Mrs. Cage myself," Dean continued resolutely. "This is the last time she's screwing around with my men," with that he turned and wheeled himself outside. He looked over his shoulder to see everyone still standing, looking at each other. "Well? What are you waiting for?" he snapped. "Gold embossed _Invitations_? MOVE IT PEOPLE," he clapped his hands, raising his voice as he barked his final order. "WE HAVEN'T GOT ALL DAY."

Suddenly the garage erupted in activity. Bobby picked up the receiver and dialled. Andy disappeared inside. Max still shaking, but with a determined look on his face, walked past Dean to the working area. Cas followed after him, but was stopped by a firm hand on his wrist. He looked down at Dean, who sighed, then with one hand still holding Cas singlehandedly steered them both into Max's corner behind Bobby's truck. Cas looked at him questioningly.

"Look," Dean said quietly. "Everyone who's gonna walk in through these doors today has only one mission in mind. You. So be careful," Cas had no idea what was going on, but he nodded. "If anyone presses for anything… from details of the rescue to your current address or anything… just say you're with me. They don't need to know anything else. And if anyone bothers you too much, just call me, alright?"

"But I don't understand," Cas finally spoke up after all the morning madness. "I met a few people around town yesterday. Pretty much everyone was cool with me."

"That's coz they thought you were just passing through. Y'see… they thought you'd be gone in a day or two, so they really didn't give it much thought, but now that you're staying…" he fell into silence. "Let's just say, the people mean well… but they can get a little… uh… intense, if you know what I mean. And if it gets too uncomfortable, you can go home. I'll handle the work load today."

"That's alright, Major," Cas replied cheekily. "I fought in the war. I sure can handle a few crazy people."

Dean grinned. "You are so gonna eat your words, Novak."

-x-x-x-

The morning started slow, with a couple of "burst tire" and "overheated radiator" college girls casually asking for his phone number. Apparently everyone had heard of Castiel, the mysterious blue-eyed stranger who had moved in with the elusive Dean Winchester. After brushing them off with "I'm sorry. I don't have one", wherein one of them actually offered to buy him the new Iphone that was hot on the market, he was hounded by a couple of middle-aged housewives who "just wanted to talk" and could have put the greatest of interrogators and gossip mag reporters to shame.

Thankfully Jo appointed herself as his PR agent, fielding off any the unnecessary gossip mongers, when she wasn't trapped under one of the cars, and offering helpful titbits about who was hounding him at the given time. All in all Cas was pretty sure he could more or less handle his new found status as a celebrity.

Then came a strange old man in a black fedora, looking like a villain out of a 40s movie, who kept asking about his time in the army and the missions he'd worked on. "I'm sorry, sir. That information is classified, and frankly… above your pay-grade," Cas replied curtly.

"Don't use that tone with me, boy. I fought in the Vietnam when you were suckin' on your mama's tits," the man growled.

"Then I'm sure you're aware why I can't tell you anything, _Sir_ ," Cas retorted and the man walked away grumbling.

"That's Mr. Ness," Jo commented from under the Blue Dodge. "Mr. _Elliot_ Ness," she added with a devilish smile, pulling herself out.

Cas gaped, "For real?" Jo smirked and ducked under the hood.

It only went downhill after that – Mothers who wanted to set him up with their daughters, bored housewives looking to have some fun, one very shy college boy who more or less stood there gaping at him until Jo poked him in the ribs and told him to move it, one very slutty high school cheerleader who couldn't stop cupping his ass until Jo threatened to call her mother and rat her out, and a few of her friends… the list went on and on.

As if that wasn't enough, a few more – both male and female - wanted to know what living with _Dean_ _Winchester_ was like. "We call them 'Dean boys and girls'," Jo commented helpfully. "They have only one mission in life, bed Dean Winchester." Cas tilted his head to one side and raised an eyebrow. "Y'see, Dean's out at the bar most nights and flirts with anything with a pulse. My pet _cat_ has a crush on him. But he never takes anyone home. And you my dear," she said eyeing him head to toe, "are the special cookie he did. They just want to know what you have that they don't."

"What about you?" Cas asked. "Dean said something about…"

"My crush on him?" Cas nodded. "Well… He's always been my hero… more like a big brother I never wanted. But I guess Dean more or less made his choice when he started dating Carmen."

"Carmen? You mean Ash's wife?" Cas inquired.

"Yup. The very same. They had been together on-and-off since college. Golden couple… destined to be together… yada yada," she waved a hand dismissively. "Believe it or not, even when he was gone away on missions, she was faithful to him."

"So what happened?" Cas' curiosity got better of him.

"The news came that his team was captured. We thought he was gone forever, you know. Carmen was devastated. I guess Ash always had a thing for her, but never acted on it because she was so in love with Dean. But when she turned to him as a friend… and the rest as they say is history," she finished.

"Dean must've been devastated," Cas turned to look at the man who was hammering at the bonnet like no tomorrow.

"He was… at first," Jo accepted. "But I think he was also a bit relieved. Happy that she had found someone who really loved _her_ … gave her the stability he never could." Cas looked at Dean again, working with fierce concentration, and went back to his car.

By lunch time, Cas had officially decided to throw in the towel. He had been groped, pinched, manhandled and hit upon more times in a day than he had in his entire life. And that was saying a lot.

He took a brown bag Jo handed out and joined her and Andy on the wooden bench outside, squeezing between both of them **.** Max was nowhere to be seen and Dean had chosen to eat at his work desk, beside a Silver Prius with squashed front, keeping an eye on the old lady, who looked more like she was attending a high class charity bash than visiting a garage, sitting in the plush office chair Cas dragged out for her, shooting daggers at them. Jo had towed in the car when she came in, along with its too smug owner, "because she says she doesn't trust her precious car with strangers, but it's just a pretense to ogle at your lily-white ass".

"Dean's not joining us?" he asked as Dean stuffed the last of his burger into his mouth, stretched himself as far he could and went back to work, still keeping one eye on the lady.

"Nah, man… Rusty's just lookin' out for us, y'know," Andy replied.

"Rusty?" Cas asked… the day was getting more and more interesting.

"Rusty as in _Brad_ _Pitt_ **…** from _**Ocean's**_ _ **Eleven**_ ," Jo explained. "Y'see Bobby owns the garage, but Dean's the one who runs the show. He's our very own Rusty. You got _any_ problem, _any_ time of the day, you go to him."

Cas nodded. "So your… uh... Rusty," the name felt strange on his tongue, "he likes crime capers, huh?"

"Anything that even smells like con and backhandedness, really," Jo replied. "And horror… _**Godfather's**_ his favourite. Hates ghost movies though. Or anything with too much gore. Oh… and," she bent her head really really close to Cas' and whispered in his ear, " _ **Titanic**_. The dude cries _every_ time." Cas looked at her in surprise. She straightened. "But you didn't hear it from me."

Cas nodded, trying to hide the smile at the thought of Dean crying as _Kate_ _Winslet_ let go of _Dicaprio's_ hand. "So… what did you mean by looking out for you?" he asked finally dragging the conversation back to its original topic.

"Well… let's just say the old lady is the female version of _Jerry_ _Sanduski_. She has at least 10 sexual harassment cases against her, 3 from Bobby's previous employees."

But what about…" Cas asked, horrified at the thought of that cougar pawing at Dean.

"Cap?" Cas nodded. "Ever since he got back, she's more or less kept her distance from him. He can get a bit… explosive," Jo replied. Andy nodded in agreement, "As long as you are on his good side, you're safe. _Hell hath no fury like Dean Winchester pissed._ "

After lunch, Cas met a few more prospective dates and 'Dean fans'. And then came _her_. Mrs. Lilith Saunders, the owner of cherry red Camaro Convertible Andy had painted yesterday. Cas had always prided himself a bit of a pacifist… but there was something about this woman that made him want to commit hara-kiri on her.

"Call me _Lily_ ," she said extending her bony well-manicured hand towards him. Looking to Jo for assistance, who was nowhere to be seen, he reluctantly accepted it, and was promptly awarded with a blood red fingernail scratching on it. He shuddered involuntarily and pulled his hand away. "So… Castiel," she said rolling her tongue around the "- _el"_ part, "my husband's out of town till Monday. Come over tonight."

Cas gaped. He had had lots of housewives hit on him, but more often than not they skirted around the issue, dropping hints... expecting him to flirt back. No married woman had ever come on to him so directly. He decided to return the favour. "I have plans," he replied.

"You mean with the _cripple_?" She asked looking distastefully at the lone figure huddled over his work desk. Mrs. Cage had left sometime after lunch, hitching a ride with some guy named Colton because she was bored of watching Dean beat out the dents with no "hot-buns" in sight.

Castiel felt his blood boil. _She had no right to call Dean a cripple._ "Yes," he gritted through his teeth.

"Ditch him," she asserted, scratching a finger along his arm. "I'll show what you're missing out on."

' _Are you fucking kidding me?'_ he thought as he gruffly yanked her hand away. "I don't think you have anything I'd miss out on," he threw back.

"Oh… you are one of _those,"_ she said rolling her eyes, dragging 'those' as if she was talking about a leper or something equally revolting. "Well… your loss. If you want to waste your time with that _cripple_ …" Cas wanted to strangle her, but managed to restrain himself, "'sides, I've heard he can't even get it up anymore."

"I'll have you know…," a voice quipped behind Cas. He turned to see Dean behind him, a fake cocky grin plastered on his face. "I have a very healthy, voracious sex drive. Or did you forget that time in Illinois?"

" _Dean_ …" Lilith turned her sickeningly sweet smile on him, "I just was telling your _boyfriend_ herehow lucky he is," she glided towards Dean as he extended the bill to her, running a red finger nail along his arm, before plucking it off fingers.

Then she leaned forward, her face barely an inch from his, and huskily whispered, "I'll send the check by mail." Dean cringed inwardly. Her eyes reminded him of Alistair. Lilith straightened, making a show of adjusting her bra, in his face – Dean's eyes sought Cas' and held – then added, "Give my love to Sam" before gliding to her car which Jo had brought around.

-x-x-x-

"Hey Castiel," Jo called. Cas turned around to find Jo grinning at him. He grinned back.

With last of their customers gone, Dean had gone back in to lock up and inform Bobby they were leaving. Max had left with Andy and he was waiting for Dean to finish locking up so they could go back home. He was very tired and he suspected Dean had pulled a muscle or two from the way he winced while wheeling around and massaged his left neck and shoulder every ten seconds.

"So Cas…" Jo asked hesitantly "do you have any plans for tonight?"

Cas smiled. _Apparently the poor kid had missed the memo._ He leaned forward, beckoning her closer, then cupped a hand to his mouth and lowered his voice, as if letting her in on a secret, and said, "I'm gay. And only Dean's allowed to call me Cas." Jo's eyes widened in question but before she could say something, he straightened, returned his voice to its normal level and answered, "No, I don't think I have any plans for tonight," just as Dean wheeled himself towards them.

"What are you two talking about?" Dean asked innocently, smiling first at Cas then turning to bestow the same smile to Jo. Jo made fake gagging noises, but Dean ignored her.

"Are you coming over?" Jo asked. Dean looked at Cas questioningly and he shrugged. More gagging noises followed. "What?" Dean asked irritatedly. "Nothing," Jo snapped.

Dean sighed. "Well, I could use a drink," he said more to himself than anyone else. "Where's Baby?" he asked Jo.

"Back at the Roadhouse. You gonna introduce her to Cas?"

Dean looked at Cas, who had his trademark "lost-puppy" face on. He grinned, "Yeah… I think I will. Why don't you go on ahead? Me and Cas – _Jo_ _sniffed_ – will follow in our car. That alright, Cas?"

"Yeah," Cas repeated. He had no idea who Baby was, but apparently she was very important to Dean and Cas was determined to like her.

* * *

Ten minutes later, he was standing in the well-light Roadhouse warehouse shaking hands with, or rather roaming his hands over, a large black muscle car with silver reams. Jo had unlocked the door then conspicuously disappeared. Now he and Dean were completely alone with Dean's baby.

"'67 Chevy Impala," Dean gushed proudly. "Heavy-duty suspension. 385 Brake horsepower. 427 cubic-inch V8 Turbo-jet engine. Isn't she a beauty?"

Cas hummed in agreement. He wasn't a car person, but Nicky had been and he had loved that beat-up old Charger of his as much as he loved his baby brother and Meg. And if Dean was anything like Nick, which Cas suspected he was, then this was a test of the "Meet the Family" variety. After all he had already met the "in-laws" and "extended family" so obviously the last hurdle would be "the baby", and he was determined to not screw it up.

So he caressed the roof quietly taking in as much as he could. The car was in a pristine condition… well loved, well maintained. Dean said Jo was looking after her for him, making sure she stayed fit and running, and Cas decided he loved Jo. He glanced inside. The interior was adorned with whitish leather, a rare choice and… _wait! Was that a cassette player?_ _Huh!_ "She's lovely," he finally answered and meant every word. "I wish we could take her for a ride," he added softly. Dean looked at him in surprise. "A wild beauty like her shouldn't be locked up," he continued running his hands over the gleaming black trunk. "She should be allowed to fly free… untethered. She's made to run with the wind. I bet she could take on the Devil himself if you gave her the chance."

"Cas?" Dean said a bit louder, and Cas realised his mistake.

"Sorry," he guiltily. "I must've zoned out. I didn't mean it. Let's just go in…" he turned in direction of the exit, mentally chastising himself for his stupidity. _He was determined to not make a big deal of the wheelchair thing. Dean wasn't an invalid and did not need to be treated as such. He was just like anything other guy he'd courted, and that's how Cas was determined to treat him. But sometimes he wasn't. And this…_ _this… what he'd done… that was downright insensitive. He'd just managed to bitch-slap and sucker-punch Dean at the same time. And he'd totally screwed everything up._ He set his jaw straight, eyes ahead and started walking when a hand shot out and pulled him back.

"Wait. Did you really mean what you said?" Dean asked.

He looked at Dean's face about to deny every word, but Dean didn't look hurt, he looked… hopeful. _Like he wanted this._ Cas smiled. "Every word," he swore. "I would really love to take you both for a drive. Should I ask Jo for the keys?"

Dean beamed up at him. "No need," he said pulling out his key-bunch from the pocket and handing them to Cas. "You really thought I had only one set of keys?" Cas chuckled, shaking his head, and unlocked the passenger door first, before walking over to the other side to open his door. Dean climbed in, then twisted around folding his wheelchair. "Hey Cas?" he called out softly. "Mind helping with the chair-car here?"

Cas looked up from his door to see Dean struggling to pull the whole thing in his lap. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked incredulously.

"Well… I called out for you, but you looked busy, so I thought I'll just pull it in, then dump it in the backseat. Jo usually does that."

"Leave it," Cas replied.

"What?"

"Leave it. We don't need it. Just trust me on this, okay?"

Dean exhaled as he came to a conclusion and let it go. The folded wheelchair fell on the ground with a thud, as Dean looked straight ahead and locked his door. Cas slipped in beside him and locked his.

Cas started the car. The engine gave a grunt and wheeze, then stuttered to a halt. He counted backwards from 10 then tried again, with the same results. He looked at Dean who looked like someone had kicked his puppy. _Evidently Major was not used to his baby sputtering and dying._ "It's okay, Dean," Cas consoled, remembering the lesson Nick had taught him a long back. "Sometimes if a car hasn't been in the running too long…" he stopped because Dean was glaring at him. _Of course Dean knew that. He was a bloody mechanic. What was wrong with him? "_ Well, third time's a charm," he said turning the key once again. _No dice! The stupid car determined to cock-block him._

But Cas wasn't about let a golden opportunity slip away. "Look," he told the car. _Of course, he wasn't talking loudly, because normal humans did not commute with inanimate objects._ "I really like him. I mean really. He's kind and generous and possibly the bravest person I've ever met. And you are important to him. And you liking me is a very important step in this relationship. So please… please… _please_ … give me a chance. _Please_. I swear I'm nice guy. And I promise I'll be good to him." He looked at Dean, who was looking at him with rapt fascination as if he was reading his thoughts, shrugged and turned the key once more. Mercifully, the car started and kept running. "Thanks, baby," he told the car. "I owe you." He felt the car purr under him and took it as an affirmation.

He turned to Dean. "Okay Major, where do you want to go?"

-x-x-x-

Like their last two car rides, this one too was filled only with sounds from the radio and an occasional direction from Dean, but unlike the last two times, the silence was not comfortable. Both were itching to say something… to do something about the obvious tension that had only magnified since they first laid eyes on each other only two days ago.

Dean directed him the down the main road, then out the town limits towards the highway. Cas put the car in 5th and relaxed. The car knew what she was doing and melted beneath his touch. It didn't just run on the wind, it flew. "Listen to my baby purr…" Dean gushed beside him. Cas hummed in approval. _Yup! He could get used to this. Dean, him and the Impala with nothing but road and winds for_ _company_. He wondered what Dean thought about road trips. Finally Dean asked him to turn into a small neglected grassy pathway that led off the road and go to the very end. Cas followed until the road ended in what looked like a tiny neglected pond and shut off the engine.

The pond was completely hidden among the tall trees and had no other roads leading to it. The apart from the wild animals, they were probably the only two living beings in at least 10 mile radius. The skies were clear and the moon was shining brightly. The water reflected the moonlight and appeared sparkly silver. A perfect contrast against the otherwise black of the night.

Dean reached under his seat and pulled the lever, pushing the seat back with his shoulders. The springs groaned, but the backrest gave away to the pressure. Not many people knew the Impala had reclining seats. It was like an Easter Egg feature. The only reason he knew was because he had chanced upon it while looking for a dropped condom. He leaned back till he was comfortable, released the lever and closed his eyes, breathing in the crisp night air and sounds of the insects and small animals. He had usually come here when the home life got a bit too overwhelming. Dad and Sam could never see eye to eye and he'd have to be the buffer between them. Most of the times they got along fine, but sometimes… he just couldn't. And no one knew about this place. No one but him… _and_ _Castiel_.

"What is this place?" The object of his thoughts spoke up.

Dean turned in direction of the voice and stifled a gasp. Cas was lying beside him, his face titled towards Dean. The silver moonbeams shining through the windshield landed directly on the pale skin giving it a slightly ethereal otherworldly glow. They reflected in the bright blue orbs making them sparkle with the wisdom of the ages and flames of desire. It was beautiful… _mesmerizing_ … Angelic!

_Angel,_ Dean thought. _An_ _Angel_ , _so close… and his for taking. All he had do to was reach out and take it. But he couldn't. The angel deserved better, much better, not a hollow shell of man like him._ He swallowed dryly, turned his head to look at the roof of his car and answered, "It was my hiding place when I was younger. Only I know about this place. And now you."

"Does this mean I'm special?" Cas asked softly. Dean looked at his companion again, the angelic eyes staring back into his soul, the chapped reddish lips looking gorgeously pale pink and soft and kissable… _and damn if he didn't just want to tear into them right now._ He looked away again and shifted uncomfortably, his pants suddenly feeling tight. He took a few deep breaths to calm his heart rate and felt pressure ease off his pants.

He looked at his companion again. "Maybe," he finally replied. "So… what did you tell her?" he asked the question had been on his mind since they left the civilization behind.

"Who?"

"The car. Back at the warehouse, when she wouldn't start. You talked to her… you told her something."

"What? No! That's… that's preposterous. People don't talk to cars," Cas replied sceptically. Even in the pale moonlight Dean could see a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"Not everyone, but some do," Dean replied. "I mean… _I_ talk to my car. Growing up I felt like she was my only real friend, y'know. The only one who could understand me and wouldn't judge me or anything. Sometimes I would come here, just her and me, and we would spend hours just sitting and _um…umf-"_

He was cut short because Cas had had enough and crushed their lips together. First it was just that, just their lips pressed together trying to mash into each other until Dean made a "urgh…mph" sound and opened his mouth, as his hand cupped Cas' head pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Tongues fought for dominance as both delved into each other's mouths with gusto, whimpering and moaning, hands pawing all over, finding purchase in each other's bodies, until the only reason Cas wasn't on top of Dean grinding him to High Heaven, was because his legs were trapped under the fucking steering wheel. When they finally separated for air, both sporting equally raging boners, they were panting like marathon runners.

"What was that?" Dean broke the silence when his breath settled and brain finally shifted into focus.

"A kiss," Cas stated sitting up. He looked down at the man beside him with a cheeky smile. _God, how he wanted to go for a round two._

Dean reached under the seat, pulled the lever and released it. The seat sprung forward with such force that he had to brace himself on the dashboard. A sharp pain shot through his left shoulder, but he ignored it in lieu of shooting Cas with " _What do you think I am? Stupid?_ " bitchface that would've given Sam a run for his money. "I _mean_ … Why did you kiss me?" he asked turning to face the culprit.

"Isn't it obvious?" Cas asked. "I like you Dean. I really do. You wanted to know what I told your car?" Dean nodded, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer. "I told her if she gave me a chance, I'd be good for you. I am asking you for the same thing."

"Cas," Dean shook his head and replied. "I like you too. A lot. But let's face it. I'm not exactly boyfriend material. I've got a roving eye… and it never stays on one person for long. I'm just not the right guy for you."

"Well... you never know," Cas replied. "People always change." _For a 30 year old former Marine, he really made a decent 14 year old girl justifying her crush on the high school bad-boy._

"You wouldn't be the first who thought that," Dean replied, his voice dipping a notch. "I had someone, y'know. Thought she could change me if she persisted. Finally realised that the love of her life wasn't me. I've never seen her happier than when she's with him."

"You mean Carmen?" Cas asked.

"Oh… so Jo told all what a great slut Dean Winchester is," Dean retorted.

"No… but she did tell me what an awesome guy you are," Cas answered.

"That's because the kid's been in love with me since she was 15," Dean smiled sadly. "But I wouldn't listen to her. I'm not a nice guy, Cas. I am an asshole. I flirt with entire town…"

"But you never take them home," Cas interjected.

"What?"

Cas huffed a smile. "You flirt with the entire the town but you never take anyone home. How long has it been since you got laid, Major?"

Dean flinched. "That's none of your business," he snapped.

"Maybe not, but as you said I'm your friend. And as far as I know it's a friend's job to make sure a friend's alright. And you, my Major, are not alright."

"And you think I'll be alright if I'm with you?" Dean asked sceptically.

"Could be. Who knows…" Cas shrugged. "You'll never know until you give it a chance, right?"

"You're just wasting your time, Novak," Dean snapped.

"Then it's my time to waste," Cas snapped back. "Nicky always said I was too impulsive. Unlike you, Major, I always rush in first… And who knows maybe you'll realise that you like me back."

"It's never gonna happen," Dean stated, a bit unsurely.

Cas smiled. _It was already happening._ "Doesn't matter, I'll keep trying anyway. And you of all people should know I never give up. So do your best, Major. Coz you're about to be courted by the most persistent man you've ever known," he stated conspiratorially, turning on the engine and backing out.

"Fine! But don't expect me to break down easily." Dean reached forward to turn on the radio, and switched to the late night Rock Station, before closing his eyes and basking in the familiar rhythm of drums and guitars. He sat up with a start when he realised what was playing, cursing his fate as he listened to the _**Axl**_ _**Rose**_ singing _**"November**_ _**Rain".**_

"… _So if you want to love me, then darlin' don't refrain… Or I'll just end up walkin', In the cold_ _November rain…"_

_Oh, you gotta be shitting me!_ Then Cas joined in _, "I know it's hard to keep an open heart, when even friends seem out to harm you… But if you could_ _heal a broken heart… Wouldn't time be out to charm you…"_

Dean smiled to himself as he settled back in his seat. There really was going to be no escape from this determined blue-eyed warrior. This guy would definitely find a way into his heart. _One day, maybe._ _But_ _not_ _today_. _And who knew maybe Cas would give up before he wore down._ He relaxed and let Cas' soothing voice rock him to sleep.

" _And when your fears subside, and shadows still remain… I know that you can love me, when there's_ _no one left to blame…_

_So never mind the darkness, we still can find a way… 'Cause nothin' lasts forever… Even cold_ _November rain…"_

-x-x-x-

Cas looked at his companion, eyes closed, slightly twisted away from him, sleeping peacefully for the time being and thought about what had been Dean saying. Even though he hadn't said anything, he knew that Dean was scared of people getting tired of him and walking away. But Dean would never admit it out loud and if he had his way, he would never have to.

_He would make Dean Winchester fall in with love him. He just had to. He had felt more at home in the last_ _two days than he had_ ever _felt in his entire life, and he wasn't just gonna let it get away from him._

Nicky had always said a true warrior never lost hope… he kept fighting even when everything was against him… a true warrior never quit. _And James Castiel Novak, brother of Nicholas Delaware Novak, was no quitter._

-x-x-x-

When they reached the house, the garage door was open and Dean's white van was already parked inside. Jo was sitting on the unfolded wheelchair, silently rolling back and forth, with a large brown bag on her lap.

Cas stopped in the driveway, killed the engine. He glanced at his passenger – looking like a cherub, in a blissful, possibly dreamless sleep, his features relaxed and all the tension seeped away – got down and walked over to the girl.

"Hey, Cas!" The girl greeted "Mind if I call you 'Cas'? _Castiel_ sounds a bit handful."

Cas laughed. "Welcome aboard. Though I think with Dean renaming me 'Cas', it was gonna catch up sooner or later," he replied keeping his voice low so as to not awake the sleeping cherub. "Thanks for bringing it over," he added pointing to the wheelchair.

Jo waved a hand dismissively. "Dean's family. And just coz you're here, don't mean I am giving up anytime soon." Cas laughed. "'Sides," Jo continued, "Mom sent over your dinner," handing him the brown bag.

"Does Ellen always send food over?" Cas asked suddenly curious.

"Most of the time. Dean _loves_ to eat, but can't cook. Or rather hates it… like "I'd rather set myself on fire than set foot in the kitchen" kind of hates it. What can you do?" she asked rubbing her hands on the arms of the coat. "It's cold out here."

Cas nodded, belatedly noticing the chill in the air. The car had been warm and toasty. He extended the keys to her and told her to get inside, then walked purposefully back to the car. He saw Jo pushing the wheelchair behind him. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Aren't you gonna wake him up?" she asked confused. Cas shook his head. "Then how will you get him inside?" Cas silenced her with a finger on his lips and motioned her to go inside. Jo hovered around unsurely and he chose to ignore her.

He reached forward and pulled the passenger door open, catching Dean just in time to prevent him from toppling over. Dean grunted in his sleep but made no move to wake up. He threw Dean's right hand across his shoulder, then easily plucked him off the seat, bridal style, and stepped back, kicking the door shut in the process. The door connected with Dean's left hand and a shudder passed through him. Cas cradled him closer then effortlessly carried him inside the house, directly to his bedroom and gently placed him on his bed, still ignoring the gaping Jo who had carried the wheelchair in and placed it just within an arm's reach.

His hands moved deftly as he began unbuttoning the shirt he had so carefully picked out in the morning. He was pushing the shirt off the shoulders when Jo cleared her throat, mumbled something about making coffee and went outside, leaving them alone. As soon as the room cleared, Dean opened his eyes and his hand shot up to grasp Cas' wrist. Cas met his gaze but made no move to remove his hands.

"You're just not gonna back off, are you?" Dean asked, his voice serious but his eyes smiling.

"Oh, I'll break you, sir," Cas simply stated.

Dean grinned. " _Exley_ or _Wendell_?" he asked.

" _White_ ," Cas replied. "I have this thing for righteous hot-heads with hearts of gold. But I'm guessing Exley's more of your type."

"Never could resist the arrogant golden boys," Dean nodded in agreement. "Mind getting rid of Jo while I finish undressing?" Cas grinned and purposefully strode out of the room. 5 minutes later, he heard the front door slam and Impala's familiar purr as the car pulled out of the driveway and started down the street.

Dean cringed as he pulled the t-shirt over his head. _Mrs._ _Cage and her fucking cougarness._ He gingerly pulled the shirt off and surveyed the damaged. The shoulder felt taut under his fingers and he could see a faint purplish bruise beginning to form. He decided to pull the t-shirt back on to prevent Cas from seeing it, but before he could accomplish the task, Cas appeared with what looked suspiciously like a pack of frozen peas and a large wrapping bandage, pushed his hands away and wrapped the peas around his shoulder, locking it in place. The pain eased instantly. "There's pain-killers in that drawer," he directed and Cas handed him a couple of pills. Dean popped them before turning to unbutton his pants. Cas looked away as he struggled to singlehandedly remove the jeans, but muttered an exasperated sigh before turning back and pulling them right off. Then he left Dean alone and went to reheat the dinner.

Dean winced as he moved from his bed to the wheelchair – times like these, he really missed his legs –and mentally thanking Cas for his lack of boundary issues, wheeled himself into the bathroom. He emerged half an hour later, wearing only his boxers. Pulling on his underwear had been too much of a chore and he was in no mood to strain his shoulder further. Besides it wasn't like Cas was going to complain about his lack of clothing.

Like the morning, he found Cas waiting for him at dining table - eyes closed, hands folded under his chin in a prayer. He stood up when Dean, this time as quietly as he could, entered the room and started serving. The entire dinner – lasagne with lots of extra cheese, carrots, fried mushrooms and onions on the side and beer, only for Cas, "because pain-killers and alcohol don't go together. I'll stab you if you argue about it" and Ellen's Cherry Cream-cheese Pie, "Dude, the angels would totally fall for this" – was passed minutely dissecting each and every scene of _**L.**_ _**A.**_ _**Confidential.**_

And Dean realised how much he'd missed this... just being in the same room with someone, talking about bullshit, not caring about running off once the sex was over, lounging around watching TV. He'd had that with Carmen, but he wasn't ready to settle down then and he could see the way Ash looked at her… like she was **Venus** incarnate. He was really glad they'd found each other. He wondered if he could have the same thing with Cas. _With his luck, maybe not… but he could always enjoy the ride._

After dinner, Cas cleared away the dishes, letting Dean pack away the left-overs. When Dean wondered why Cas didn't mother him like everyone else, Cas set him straight, "I'm not going to adopt you. I am going to date you. You are a grown-up man and you can do your own shit." Dean smiled and set to work.

After everything was cleared away, locked up and in general set for the night, Cas leaned down kissed his temple, bid him good night and proceeded towards his own room.

"Wait," Dean called out behind him. "Aren't you gonna tuck me in?" _That was seriously cheesy, even by chick flick and Dr. Sexy standards._

Cas walked over to him, leaned down till their eyes were level and holding onto the wheels so he was locked in place, gave him the cheesiest smile he could muster and very huskily replied, "Not till you say 'yes'."

"But what if I have a nightmare?" Dean pouted. He mentally grimaced as the words escaped his mouth. _Now he had officially crossed the line from cheesy to corny._ He waited for Cas to tease him about it, but Cas turned thoughtful… as if that was one thing he did not want to joke about.

"Then I'll be in the next room." He leaned in closer and added, "I may even sing for you."

Dean gulped. _The bastard_ knew _what his voice did to him._ Then Cas pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, but separated when Dean leaned into it, pressed another kiss to his temple and walked towards his room without a backward glance.

That night Alistair did not pay him a visit. But a certain blue-eyed angel did.


	4. It's Not A Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos, bookmarks and subs.... 
> 
> Also, your reviews are greatly appreciated, mostly because not only they tell me what you think about the chapter, but also which direction to take.

**Part 4**

"Are you sure?" Sam gaped into the phone. "As in completely, utterly, positively _sure_?"

"I know what I saw, okay?" Jo snapped. "I'm telling you, Sam. Something's definitely cooking between your brother and his houseguest. I mean… he literally carried Dean over threshold and into the bedroom."

"Awww. I wish I was there to see that," Sam replied. "Please tell me you got pictures at least."

"No dice, Gigantor," Jo pouted. _How could she have missed such a golden opportunity?_ "The guy was cradling Dean like a Godforsaken virgin bride. I'm lucky my brain didn't spontaneously combust."

"Jessica'll never believe me," he replied, still laughing at the thought of his brother being a virgin. As if on cue his desk phone rang. "Hold on, Jo," he muttered into his cell, picking up the phone with other hand. "Samuel Winchester."

"Mr. Winchester. Your wife's here."

"Thanks Claire. Send her in," he said to his new secretary, smiling at her through the glass doors and replacing the receiver. The girl smiled back and nodded to Jess.

"Hey Jo, Jess' here. Tell her you— I'll call you back, Jo." He abruptly cut off the line and stood up as his wife of 8 years faltered through the doors a wistful smile on her face, her eyes ghosting with dew. He guided her to the nearest seat and knelt in front of her. He knew she had an appointment with her gyneo today. "What's wrong, babe?" he asked, silently bracing himself for the worst.

Jessica Moore-Winchester smiled at her husband of 8 years kneeling before her, the same apprehensive look he had when he had proposed to her. She smiled, exactly the same way she had then. "I'm pregnant," she replied.

-x-x-x-

Dean was in a dilemma. And it was all Sam's fault. Or rather, he decided he would blame Sam.

The day had been progressing nicely. Or as nicely Dean would have expected.

First, Cas had made breakfast – the most fluffiest, creamiest and awesomest scrambled eggs with a hint of pepper, nutmeg and mint, and lots and lots of bacon strips with some greenish herb seasoning. He'd only just stopped short of having a food orgasm… which, if it was going to be a daily thing, he'd better learn to control. And then Cas, the saint that he was, had packed the rest of the breakfast and told him to finish it for lunch. Breakfast. For Lunch. He had breakfast for lunch, thanks to Cas, which in Dean's book made him a total marriage material despite all his misgivings.

Second, the workday had been slow, which was quite surprising after the crazy Cas rodeo of yesterday. Apart from his usual commitments, Dean had fielded only five Cas related calls, and because he had nothing better to do, he had spent the day happily ogling at his (Potential? Inevitable? Future?) boyfriend's lily-white ass bent over Mrs. Hudson's Honda – and today he knew for a fact that Cas was being a tease because he had looked back over his shoulder, once, catching Dean's eye, and there may or may not have been an impromptu dance session to _**Britney**_ _**Spears**_ – until Bobby yelled at both of them to get their heads in the job or get the hell out. After which, suffice to say, they'd both sobered up like fuck and Dean hadn't even dared to look at Cas, except in a strictly platonic way, to make sure he was doing his job well.

And finally, Sam and Jess had called to say that they were indeed having a baby, but had issued strict instructions that the pregnancy was to remain within the confines of the immediate family for at least a month more. Castiel, however, was given a free pass since he was there the night Dean predicted it; not to mention, Jo, the traitor, had been spilling about little aftermath of their last night's drive. Which is why Dean had had this exceptionally brilliant idea to take Cas out to celebrate.

But what was to be a simple drink at the Roadhouse turned into a potential date when Cas insisted on going home and getting a shower first. Of course, Dean had gone along with the idea because he too was feeling itchy and sweaty. It was only when he was buttoning the purple dress shirt that Cas had put out for him, along with black slacks, which Dean had no idea he owned, and a black tie, that he had the sudden revelation. _Ergo_ , Sam's fault.

-x-x-x-

"You alright, Major?" a voice called as knuckles rapped on his open bedroom door.

Dean looked up to see Cas standing in the doorway wearing a white short-sleeved shirt, which Dean was pretty sure belonged to him, and tight dark blue jeans, which Dean was pretty sure did not belong to Cas either.

"I found these in Sam's old room," Cas replied wiping his hands along the front of his thighs, smoothing the fabric unto his legs. "Hope you don't mind."

At first, Dean thought about making some snark about how he had never bothered about personal boundaries before, until he realized Cas was talking about the pants, that belonged to Sam, not Dean's shirt he was so casually, comfortably wearing. "Uh… no. It's alright. It's not like Sam's ever gonna wear them again. Besides," he added "how the hell did you manage to fit into _those?_ Sammy outgrew them when he was 17."

"Narrow hips," Cas replied, turning around and showing off his curvy butt, highlighted by the tightness of the pants. Dean gaped at how perfectly the jeans hugged his ass, before falling a bit loosely below his thighs. Sammy did always have slightly chunkier thighs.

Cas turned back around to face Dean and he took in the rest. Cas had left two top buttons of his shirt open and was wearing a thin silver chain around his neck, with a pendent neatly cradled in the V of his shirt, drawing the attention to the pale skin underneath, a perfect contrast to his lightly tanned neck. For some reason, he had taken the effort to comb his hair and Dean stared at the end result in horror. The hair made him look like some Jimmy Tax-Accountant from Illinois, not his Cas. He turned back to his bed, picked up the towel and turned to Cas, "C'mere".

Cas obediently dropped to his knees before Dean and he ruffled his hair as best as he could. He gave the hair a last wipe, before leaning forward with, "don't comb your hair. I like the messy hair better."

Cas grinned and raised himself, and kissed Dean on the tip of his nose with "You're the boss, Major" before standing up and combing his fingers through his hair, ruffling them further.

Dean would never admit it, except maybe to himself, but that simple act made him shiver right down to his bones. He smiled back and nodded, before wheeling himself out and motioning Cas to follow him.

-x-x-x-

"So where are we going?" Cas asked once they were safely inside the van.

Dean genuinely had no idea. When he had asked Cas out in the morning, he had been thinking about the Roadhouse, but since they were dressed too nicely, he decided on a small Italian restaurant on the other side of the town, away from the usual crowd. "I hope you like Italian," he muttered, starting the car and pulling out.

-x-x-x-

**Rizzo's** , popularly known as the "Second Date Restaurant", was a small family owned restaurant in the nicer part of Sioux Falls, opened by Giovanni Rizzo, an Italian immigrant, sometime in the mid 1950s. Since then, the restaurant had been handed down for three generations, each one more Americanized than the last, but they still prided in the fact that they served _real_ Italian food, not some cheap gimmick. It had been one of Dean's favourite places to take Carmen out when they were together.

The last time Dean had come to this place he had had both his legs functioning and had forgotten that the place was not exactly wheelchair friendly. They had to navigate a couple of steps, and for once Dean was more than willing to let Cas push him up, before wheeling inside.

They were immediately greeted by a tall girl with tired eyes and a practiced smile, "Hello. I'm Tessa, your host for the evening. How may I help you?"

"A table for two please," Dean replied throwing his most charming _Dean_ smile.

"This way please," the girl replied turning around and walking towards one of the tables in the back, with two comfortable looking dining chairs. She moved one of the chairs away and patiently waited until both were seated, before handing them the menus and lighting the candle on their table, then leaned forward to say, "Sorry for the inconvenience. We know this place isn't exactly handicap friendly—" before Dean cut her off with a quick "no worries". The girl, Tessa, smiled apologetically and left them alone.

As Cas checked the menus, Dean looked around. The place hadn't changed much in the last four years. The walls were still pale purplish-red with the soft glow of yellow lights shining from the designer lamps mounted on the walls, giving it a soft romantic vibe. The bar in the corner with its huge mounted mirrors reflected the lights, making it look twice as large, but not any less cozy. The tables, most of them two-seaters, were situated a little bit apart from each other, to give the "second date" couples some sense of privacy. Each table had a single rose sticking out of a tall vase and fresh candle ready to be lit. For those who needed even more privacy, there were private booths on the upper floor.

"Isn't anyone else going to join us?" Cas spoke up for the first time since they left the house. "I thought we were celebrating Jessica's pregnancy announcement."

Dean looked up to see a confused expression on his face. "Uh… no. It's just us. They want to keep it a secret till the first trimester clears."

Cas nodded unsurely, looking around at the other nicely dressed, obviously on-date couples, surrounding them. "Is this a date, Major?" he finally asked.

Dean looked at him, "no" riding on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to say the word. He looked away, suddenly shy. "Not exactly," he finally replied. "This is more like a celebration-slash-get-to-know-you dinner." He looked up to meet Cas' eyes and was not _at_ _all_ surprised to find the man glowing in the soft candle light, a bashful smile on his face on his face. "This is NOT a date," he repeated slowly, staring at him.

"Whatever," Cas replied, staring right back, but the smile and the glow remained.

Someone cleared their throat beside his right shoulder and Dean looked up to see Tessa, and her practiced smile, smiling back at them, evidently used to interrupting couples eye-fucking each other. "Are you ready to order?" she asked.

Dean looked back at Cas. Between staring at Cas and staring around the place, he hadn't even glanced at the menu, but Cas apparently had, because he just nodded and replied, "I'll have a **Sangiovese.** And you, Dean?" handing her the menus.

"Make that two," Dean replied, as Tessa wrote their order in her pad and left them alone once again.

"So Cas…" Dean turned to his date, "Tell me about yourself."

Cas tilted his head back and did his bird-on-a-wire expression. "I already told you about…"

"No, not that," Dean interjected. "Not the heavy stuff. We have been living together for the past three days, and you know almost everything about me, including the colour of my underwear…" Cas turned scarlet at that. "… but all I know about you is that you are a world weary traveller with a tragic past, extraordinary cooking skills and extreme lack of personal boundaries. I need more than that, man."

Cas bit his lower lip and nodded. "What do you want to know?"

Before Dean could reply, they were once again interrupted, this time by a waiter arriving with two wine glasses and bottle of **Chianti**. The next five minutes were spent tasting the wine, before Cas nodded his approval, and waiter poured the glasses before retreating.

"So, Major," Cas picked up where they'd left off, "what do you want to know?"

Dean sat back and thought for a minute. He wanted to know everything about his date, the problem was where to begin. He came to a conclusion, nodded to himself and leaned forward, "The first time we met, you were singing Disney songs. Do you like Disney movies?"

"Is that going to be a dealbreaker?" Cas deadpanned.

Dean grinned, barely able to control his laughter. _Of all the things…_ "No," he replied with as straight a face as he could manage. "I just want to know if you are willing to sacrifice at least 3 hours a week in pursuit of one true love and a happy ending."

"Are you seriously asking me to watch Disney movies with you?"

"Is that going to be a dealbreaker?" Dean countered, raising an eyebrow at him. This time Cas did laugh.

The conversation flowed easily after that. Cas liked _**Star**_ _**Wars**_ just fine, had never seen _**Star**_ _**Trek**_ and was obsessed with _**X-Men**_. He was also fond of old **Julia** **Roberts** movies but would never stoop to admitting that _**Notting**_ _**Hill**_ was his favourite. Dean, on the other, admitted that though Dee was the main reason he had started watching Disney movies, he genuinely loved _**Ratatouille**_ and _**Mulan**_ **,** because he more or less identified with the protagonists. When Cas asked him the million dollar question about _**Titanic,**_ Dean tensed for a second then admitted that although he didn't care for the movie, except for the scene with **Winslet's** boobs, the final scene where she promises DiCaprio that she will never let go, reminded him of the last moments he had spent with Gabe. Cas squeezed his hand and changed the topic.

As far as music was concerned, Dean was surprised to learn that Cas had absolutely no preference whatsoever. "I prefer nice lyrics to noise," he stated. The only thing that redeemed him in the eyes of Dean, was the fact that his favourite song was " _ **Zeppelin's**_ _Ramble_ _On_ ", which also happened to be Dean's favourite, along with " _Stairway_ _to_ _Heaven_ " which Dean loved. He, also, had special affinity to " _ **The**_ _**Cab's**_ _Angel with a Shotgun"_ because it was Nicky's song for him. This time it was Dean who changed the topic.

When Tessa came back to take their dinner orders, Dean was more than content to sit back and let Cas order for both of them – Tomato Bruschetta, Chicken Cacciatore, Pasta bolognese – and Caprese Salad for the table. Dean had never heard of the last dish and when asked, Cas explained that it was basically a plateful tomato and cheese slices. And Dean admitted out loud that if he were a lesser man, he would have kidnapped Cas and hidden him away from the world. After their food arrived, they hadn't felt the need to say anything, quietly tucking into their food like they did every morning.

"Major," Cas tapped on the table to get his attention after their plates were cleared away.

"What?" Dean looked up, composing himself from drifting off again. He took a sip of his water – he had stopped drinking after his second glass. Or rather Castiel had stopped him with, "You are driving me home. And I have no intention of ending the best night of my life in a hospital" – "Did you say something?" he asked.

"Yeah, I was wondering if we can skip the desert. I have a surprise for you at home," Cas replied.

"What surprise?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, now, would it?" Cas replied exasperatedly.

Dean nodded and called for the check.

-x-x-x-

"What surprise?" Dean asked again, once they were safely inside the house.

Ever since Cas had said "surprise", Dean had pestered him about it but Cas had continued to remain tight-lipped and impassive. He, however, had insisted they stop at the market before rushing out and returning with a brown paper bag that he had cradled like a newborn baby, absolutely refusing to let Dean peek inside. When Dean tried taking it from him, he just got slapped away, until he finally gave up.

Cas sighed. "Go to your room, freshen up and meet me here in 20 minutes," he replied.

Dean sulked and refused to budge. "Not till you tell me what's in there," he said pointing to the suspicious brown bag that had started looking a bit soggy.

"No," Cas replied. "And I won't until you go and change."

"Then I won't go and change," he pouted, thanking Dee for teaching him how to sulk like a true Winchester.

But maybe Cas had taken a lesson in how to keep a Winchester from sulking, because he kept the bag on the counter, away from Dean's reach, before bending down and pressing their lips together. Dean sighed and opened his lips to let Cas into his mouth. Cas kissed him for a good couple of minutes, until they both were breathless, before pulling back and said, "Maybe I should make you can offer you can't refuse."

Dean laughed and turned, as Cas patted him on the shoulder, and wheeled towards his bedroom. He turned to see Cas that had disappeared into his room, taking the package with him.

-x-x-x-

As he showered and changed into clean clothes for the night, he thought about how much influence Cas exerted on him in just three days. It amazed him, but it also scared him, because he had never felt this way before. He knew he shouldn't depend so much on Cas, shouldn't get so used to him, but the part of him that was falling for Cas, or maybe had already fallen for him, really didn't care anymore.

Precisely 25 minutes later, Dean found himself face to face with that suspicious brown package again. He was sitting at their dining table, staring disdainfully at the soggy paper bag, as Cas, fresh from the shower, opened the fridge and brought out a neat cardboard box that Dean recognised as one of Roadhouse's larger pie boxes.

"What's that?" he asked, confused.

"I found this when we got home earlier," Cas replied taking out the white pastry with pale pink letters scribbled on top. Dean stared in horror at the words "About Time Dumbass", mentally scouting for places to dump Jo's body without interruption.

"Cas… I… what the…" he sputtered but Cas held up his hand, cutting a very large piece of the pie and sliding it on the plate, and dunking it into the microwave and replacing the remaining pie back in the fridge. Then he opened the bag and took out a container of vanilla icecream. He removed the pie from the oven, dumped two large spoonfuls of semi-solid icecream on it, before keeping the rest away as well. He picked up the plate and couple of spoons and left the room, switching off the lights on his way out, beckoning Dean to follow him. He settled on the couch, then turned to Dean, "I thought I was promised a happy ending."

Dean gaped at him, trying to make sense of his words, until he remembered the earlier discussion about Disney movies. "What do you want to see?" he asked smiling as wide as his face would allow.

"I've heard Ratatouille is a good first date movie," Cas replied smiling back.

Dean nodded, popped the DVD in the player and moved back to the couch. Cas moved to one side, so Dean could climb in beside him, then shamelessly snuggled into his side, placing the plate on their joint knees and inviting Dean to share the pie.

It was sometime when **Linguini** and **Remy** were coordinating their movements that the pie was finished, and by the time **Remy** confessed to his father that he was a chef, Cas had fallen asleep on the couch, his head on Dean's lap and his feet hanging over the armrest, Dean's fingers silently carding through his hair. Dean finished the rest of the movie, shut off the TV and settled back as comfortably as he could without disturbing his date and closed his eyes.


	5. New Beginnings

**Part 5**

" _Good day sunlight, I'd like to say how truly bright you are... You don't know me but I know you, see,_ _You're my favourite star…_ _Follow you I will so let's get moving…_

_Who needs shelter when the morning's coming? Absolutely there's no one… Who needs shelter from the sun? Not_ _me, no not anyone…"_

Dean raised his head off his pillow and squinted at the clock on the table beside his bed, until it shifted into focus. "6.35 AM", the little green letters flashed back at him. He took a deep breath and shouted, "Cas! Cas, turn the off the music."

Cas gave absolutely no sign of having heard him. He roamed a tongue over lips and teeth, just enough to dissipate the dryness of the night, and yelled, "Cas! Turn Off That Beiber Crap Right Now!"

This time, Cas replied. "It's not Beiber. It's Jason Mraz. And you're late."

"It's my day off," Dean yelled back, burrowing under the covers and jamming a pillow over his head to prevent his ears from getting assaulted.

_Fucking Cas and his fucking songs with nice lyrics. He was a grown man dammit and it was his day off, and Cas had no right to force him to wake up. He was going to lie here as long as he wanted, and Cas couldn't do anything about it._ He closed his eyes and regulated his breathing, tuning out the sound.

He awoke up again with a start when some chick started yelling, "Friday… it's Friday… Gotta get down on Friday" at the top of her lungs. _Oh for the love of…_ He pushed off his covers and sat up, his head pounding to that horrible grating voice. He took a large breath and bellowed, " _CASTIEL NOVAK_! YOU SHUT THAT BITCH DOWN OR I'LL SHUT IT FOR YOU."

"I can't hear you," Cas yelled over the noise, as the volume increased.

_Why you little—_ Dean pushed down his inner _Homer_ _Simpson_ and pulled his wheelchair closer, practically jumping on it and hurrying out to turn off the radio before he suffered a brain aneurysm. He saw a plethora of multicoloured sticky notes scattered around the room... "Happy One Month Anniversary", "Wake up, it's our anniversary", "Can you believe we've been together for a month", "Why aren't you up yet?", "Do you even remember it's our anniversary?" _… Of course he remembered. That's why he had the day off. That's why he had planned that surprise for Cas, but damn if he was getting it now._

He turned off the music and checked to see if his ears were bleeding, just in case, before turning to see Cas on his knees – freshly showered – making pancakes, just the way he had that first morning. He loitered behind, taking in the bewitching sight, knowing that he would never get tired of watching Cas cook, surprised by how comfortably they had settled into this domesticity.

Cas looked up at him and smiled, and he smiled back before realising that he was supposed to be pissed at him. When Cas crooked a finger at him, he found himself moving toward Cas even before his mind registered what was happening. By the time he stopped before Cas, Cas was already half-standing and reaching forward to kiss him. Dean held onto him, kissing back with all he had, until Cas broke them apart and whispered, "Happy anniversary, Major."

Dean smiled back and whispered, "Happy anniversary, babe. What's you cookin'?"

Cas pointed to the heart-shaped pancakes stacked on a plate. "I, Cas Novak, present thee, Major, with Chocochip Peanut Butter Pancakes with Blueberry Syrup and Rhubarb Jam."

Dean gave a moan of pleasure and kissed Cas again, just because he could, until Cas wrinkled his nose and muttered, "Eww, morning breath. Go and brush your teeth."

"It didn't stop you before," Dean observed.

"Fine. Let's try it another way. If you don't go and shower, you don't get any pancakes," Cas asserted.

"That's blackmail, and you know it."

"Then sue me," Cas retorted with a smirk.

Dean sighed and raised his hands in defeat. "Fine, I'll concede now. But you better watch your back, Novak. I'm gonna make you pay."

"Oh, I'll be looking forward to it, Major," Cas replied sarcastically, turning back to the stove.

Dean turned towards the bathroom, wondering just what he had seen in this crazy, manipulative dick.

* * *

It was two weeks into their living together that Dean first brought up the fact that Cas needed a cell. Of course, Cas denied it saying he had no use for a mobile phone. He didn't really have anyone to call, and if someone wanted to get hold of him then they could reach him at the garage, Roadhouse or home.

Of course, because Dean had no sense whatsoever, and because he had no idea how to drop a subject, he had argued back. "But if what if you are not at any of those places?"

"Then you can always wait until I get home," Cas countered.

"But…" Dean sputtered, trying to explain why exactly he wanted Cas to have a mobile phone, without sounding too desperate or clingy. He looked away, not meeting Castiel's eyes. "But what if you aren't here and I need to contact you? What if you leave and I feel like talking to you? Or something…" he said nonchalantly, letting his voice fade before he said something really stupid like, _"I'm just a girl standing in front of a guy asking him to love her."_

Yes, he had lost his _**Notting Hill**_ virginity with Cas. And he was secure enough in his masculinity to admit that though he didn't care about chick-flicks, or Julia Roberts, he nevertheless found himself rooting for Hugh Grant and cursing her for leading him on, until he realised he was doing the exact same thing to Cas. Hence, the mobile phone.

He looked back up, to see Cas smiling back at him. But it didn't reach his eyes. His eyes showed fear… hurt… something else Dean couldn't recognise. "Okay," he replied, his voice calm and precise, like he was carrying out an order he didn't agree with it. "But nothing too expensive. Now, can you excuse me, please?" he said brushing past Dean and locking the bathroom door behind him.

When he emerged 10 minutes later, his face was composed… stoic. Dean had been in enough "boys don't cry" situations to know that Cas was trying to bite back his tears. He saw Cas walking back to his room, without even looking at him, let alone bestowing him with the nightly goodnight kiss, which he'd come to expect, and heard the lock click in place. He turned to his own room, trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

He lay in the bed for 30 minutes going over the past two weeks, looking for any clues that could convey why Cas hated mobiles so much. _Nothing._ So he started all over again, trying to see if he had missed out anything. _Nope_. In fact, he hadn't even seen Cas this calm and stoic, since—

And just like that, it hit him. He shot up, a jolt of pure adrenaline making it easier. _Christ!_ _He was so stupid. So fucking stupid._ _Of course, Cas had thought— Christ!_ The last time he had seen Cas like this was 15 minutes before he broke down, and spilled his life story to Dean, and admitted that he had nowhere to go. And here Dean was being an ass and thinking that Cas was going to move on from him. He had been too caught up in his own pity party to see that even Cas was waiting for the other shoe to drop. _They were blind-leading-the-blind here._ He laughed, settling down in his wheelchair, not sure if he was laughing at their situation or the fact that Cas thought Dean was going to get over him and kick him out.

He found himself going towards Cas' room, even before he could figure out his course of action.

"Cas!" he said slamming on the door. "Open up." No reply. "Open up, dammit."

"Go away, Dean," a muffled voice replied. "I already said you can buy me a cell."

"I need to speak to you."

"I'm sleeping, Dean." The voice sounded broken, but it wasn't as muffled as before. Cas was sitting up on the bed, Dean realised.

"C'mon, Cas." Dean wasn't called "Blood Hound" for nothing. "Open up. I need to speak to you, right now."

"Go away, Dean," Cas replied, flopping back down on the bed. "It can wait till tomorrow."

"Fine," Dean muttered and turned back to his room.

-x-x-x-

Cas turned onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow. _Here he was thinking he could make Dean love him, when Dean_ _couldn't wait to get rid of him. He had seen the look when Dean brought up the phone._ He sniffed into the pillow, thinking about his next course of action. _He couldn't stay here anymore. He had to leave. And he had to leave before Dean woke up._

He stood up, and tiptoed around his room packing his stuff away. He regretted that for once he had taken the time to unpack everything, taking in how perfectly at home it looked nestled in the main bedroom. _He had been waiting for Dean to come in one day, profess his love and take him to bed in every sense of the term._ He huffed a laugh at how stupid he sounded. This wasn't a fairy tale, this was real life.

_Dean would never see him,_ he thought _. He was nothing compared to the beautiful man in the next room._ _Dishonourably discharged soldier, where Dean was a war hero. A college drop-out, where Dean was an_ _engineer. Shy, nerdy, pathetic, while Dean was beautiful, vibrant, full of life. Of course, Dean would never see him._ _He would see someone as beautiful and wholesome as Carmen or Ken, the guy he'd been flirting with last night, or Mackenzie who had been eyeing like a greasy hamburger three nights ago, or…or…_ He composed himself. _No, he would leave and this would be the last he thought of Dean Winchester, or his pathetic little heart that he had so completely given to Dean._ He turned to his dresser, praying that Dean would forgive him.

It didn't take long to pack everything he owned in the two ratty bags he carried around. He stacked them at the foot of his bed, turned off his lights and waited for Dean to fall asleep so he could make his escape, like the coward Jake had called him after he was stripped of his stripes.

-x-x-x-

Dean was no better. Ever since, he had returned to his room, he couldn't shake the feeling that Cas was thinking of doing something stupid. Hell, _he_ was thinking of doing something stupid. The problem was, "what?" He knew he had fucking screwed up the one good thing they had going, and frankly, he was glad that he had, because now he had the chance to make it right.

But he had no idea how to 'court', as Cas would say, someone. All his knowledge of _courting_ came from chick-flicks he had absolutely refused to sit through, except _Notting_ _Hill_ , or Disney flicks. He didn't believe in "roses and chocolates and magic and fairy godmother" crap and neither did Cas. He wasn't a poet, like Sam, that he would dedicate a poem to his girl, or an excellent cook like Cas that he would just whip up some pancakes to make him fall for him. He was a simple mechanic from South Dakota who loved burgers and steak, drank occasionally and was obsessed with his old car. And he was in love with the Angel next door. He looked around his room for an inspiration… something… to strike him, when he spotted his guitar sitting smugly by his bed, standing from when Cas had sang to Dee, and her new teddy Uncle Cas, two nights ago.

He wheeled over, picked it up and wheeled towards Cas' room. Suddenly, Cas' obsession with 'songs with nice lyrics' didn't seem so bad anymore.

-x-x-x-

Cas looked at the door as he heard scuffling noise and stiffened when Dean cleared his throat just outside his room. "C'mon Cas. Open up," Dean said. He fought every instance of his body to do just that. If he kept quiet long enough, Dean would think he was asleep and leave. "C'mon Cas. I know you're just pretending to sleep. Please open the door, Cas." He refused to get up, refused to even look at the door for fear that it would somehow break his resolve.

"Fine! Be a stubborn ass," he heard. "But don't say I didn't warn you." He let loose a breath he had been holding. Finally. Finally, Dean would leave. And then he heard it. A guitar twang, followed a few more as Dean adjusted the strings. _What the—_ he tiptoed to the door and slid down beside it. _What **was** he doing?_

"Okay," Dean cleared his throat dramatically. "This song is dedicated to one Castiel Novak from an asshole, also known as Major. He just hopes it will say everything he was dumb enough not to."

" _It's amazing how you can speak to right to my heart… Without saying a word you can light up the dark…  
Try as I may, I can never explain… what I hear when you don't say thing…"_

Cas bit his lip to prevent the sob from escaping and held a hand over his mouth to muffle the sounds. He didn't, however, stop the tears that had started pooling in his eyes.

" _The smile on your face, let's me know that you need me… There's a truth in your eyes saying_ _you'll never leave me…  
The touch of your hand says you'll catch me, wherever I fall…"_

Dean wiped his own tears away. He had been stupid. God! He hoped Cas would forgive him.

" _You say it best… When you say nothing at all…_

_All day long I can hear people talking out loud… But when you hold me near, you can drown out the crowd…  
Try as they may, they can never define… what's being said between your heart and mine…"_

Cas couldn't stop the tears flowing down his cheeks and he didn't even want to. _Dean._ _Dean loved him._ _Loved him enough to sing a girly song from a chick flick for him._ He smiled, gathering his t-shirt to his face and started sobbing into it. These were the tears of happiness.

Outside, Dean heard the muffled sobbing. It wasn't coming from the bed, it was coming from somewhere very very close to the door. He lowered the guitar and wheeled forward till his knees were pressed to the door and leaned forward till face was merely an inch from it. "Cas," he said softly. "Cas, babe, open up." The sobbing quieted immediately, followed by a whimper and a sniff. "Cas, please. Please, open up. I need to talk to you." Another sniff. _If that's what Cas wanted…_ "Look," he said. "I know I was an idiot, alright. I thought you were going to leave me, and I didn't want to get hurt. Again. But I realise that I was just hurting you. And I am sorry… I am sorry, Cas, please."

The door clicked open, and Dean could see Cas' bags stacked up on the floor. Tomorrow, he would tear Cas a new one for even thinking about leaving him. But right now, was not the time. He wheeled himself into the master bedroom and turned around to see Cas right beside the door, back flat to the wall, knees pulled up to his chin. Even in the slight glow of the hallway light, he could see that Cas had been crying. Without thinking he found himself on the floor beside his angel, holding him, hugging him tightly.

"You thought I was going to leave you?" Cas spoke up after what seemed like an eternity, his voice a bit shaky from crying. "Why would you think that?"

"Because I am a pessimistic a-hole who overthinks things," Dean replied matter-of-factly. "But it doesn't mean anything. Right?" he asked pulling back and looking Cas in the eye.

Cas smiled sheepishly and hugged him again. "Not anymore," he whispered against Dean's neck. "I am sorry for wanting to run away," he muttered.

"Shh," Dean held him close and caressed his back. "Let's just forget about it. You are here, and that's all that matters. Okay?" Cas nodded into his neck. "Good. Now, if you'll just help me up, I need to sleep and so do you. We have to be at the garage in" he checked the clock in the hallway, it was 2.00 AM, "in six and a half hours. And we both need to get some sleep at least."

Cas nodded and whimpered as the warm body holding him started pulling away. "Dean," he whispered. Dean hummed. "Stay with me tonight?"

Dean looked at him, unsure of how to answer. "Okay," he finally replied. "But no shenanigans. I'm a gentleman and I follow the third date rule to T."

Cas grinned. "Have you _ever_ been on a third date, Major?" he asked cheekily, the emotionally charged atmosphere suddenly clear.

"No," Dean replied with a straight face. "But you are worth the wait."

Cas smiled and finally _finally_ kissed his boyfriend.

* * *

Their third date came rather unexpectedly, didn't turn out like anything they'd expected and was probably one of the best nights of Dean's life.

It happened about 10 days after they confessed their feelings towards each other. It had been just another, quiet night at the bar where Dean was playing something, and Cas had taken over Carmen's shift because she was too far along to move between people carrying loaded plates or glasses, but it still hadn't stopped her from coming to the bar and gossiping with Ellen and Jo.

Just as Dean got down from the stage, he was hounded by a couple of "Dean Girls", as Jo liked to call them, and found to chagrin that they were students in **"Cas' School of Personal Boundaries"** because they absolutely refused to budge away from him. He turned to look around, hoping to catch Cas' eye, because he had found out only a couple of days ago, that Cas made a great bodyguard, thanks to a very public altercation involving a girl named Mackenzie, that would have ended badly for everyone involved, if Dean hadn't rushed in and pulled him down in a kiss setting matters straight once and for all. He couldn't find Cas or Jo, but he did see Carmen holding on to the counter with one hand, clutching at her stomach with the other.

A sudden dread shot through him as he thought of the last time he had seen someone looking like _that._ His instincts kicked in, as he all but pushed those girls aside and found himself wheeling towards her, yelling for Cas at the top of his lungs. Thankfully, Ellen reached her before either of them could, took one look at her and the mess of blood and plasma at her feet, proclaimed the place was closed before ushering her and Ash and Jo out, leaving Dean and Cas to close up for the night.

They took their own sweet time, shooing out last of the customers and clearing everything up, gorging on the leftovers in the huge kitchen, that made Cas' eyes shine like a kid in a free-for-all candy store, before loading the large industrial dishwashers and finally locking the place up. It was only after Dean had climbed into driver's seat, that it hit him.

"That…" he said, looking strangely at the dark place behind them "that was our third date."

"Yes, I'm well aware," Cas replied, grinning cockily, eyes already darkening with lust. "Are you planning to stay here all night? Coz I got me a giant bed back home," he flicked a thumb behind shoulder "that hasn't seen action in a _very_ long time."

"Oh God, Cas," Dean groaned as his eyes followed Cas' hand hovering over his crotch.

"C'mon, Major. You gonna make a guy wait?" Cas asked seductively licking his lips. Dean groaned again and pulled out.

The ride home was a blur at best. Dean parked in the garage, and Cas jumped down, literally yanking the keys away from him and opening the house door, and tearing off his shirt, before Dean was even on the flat ground. As soon Dean slammed the car door behind him, Cas appeared again, wearing only his jeans, unceremoniously plucked Dean off his wheelchair and carried him inside the house, directly into their – previously Cas' – bedroom before dumping him on the bed and slipping out of his pants and underwear. Then he _helped_ Dean out of his clothes – which really consisted of ripping his shirt open and throwing it away like a dirty rag, then yanking off his jeans and boxers, which Dean had helpfully unbuttoned, and chucking them away as well – before collapsing on top of him. And finally _finally_ found his lips.

The kiss they shared was nothing like any other they'd ever shared. There had been quite a few intense kisses in the past, but this one was insanely, searingly hot. Tongue and teeth clacked over each other, as both fought for what they believed, they knew, was rightfully theirs. At some point, Dean may have even tasted the blood, but he didn't care. He whimpered when Cas pulled the tongue out of his mouth and started sucking on his earlobe, licking a straight cold line to his jaw. He held onto Cas, finger nails digging into his back, as Cas sucked at his throat, bit at the pulse point in his neck, hips bucking up meet Cas' thrusts as Cas whispered sweet nothings in his ear.

He shut his eyes, as he felt Cas' hand move towards his erection, eagerly waiting for the first touch. Then Cas murmured, "Oh God, Major. You're so hot right now. I'm gonna take care of you, Major. I'm gonna take real good care of you…"

And just like that his mind shut-off. _He was back on the rack, strapped naked, Alistair, Yellow Eyes and bunch of other guys leering at him, Gabe lying in the corner bloodied, bruised, as Alistair reached his cold bony fingers towards him taunting "Gonna take care of you, major. Gonna take_ ree-yal _good care of you."_ _Then his mother cradling baby Sammy singing "Hey Jude", whispering "angels are watching over you", lying in the hospital bed as he hugged her for the last time, waiting for that blinding pain, the involuntary screams that he couldn't control no matter how hard he tried…_ He acted on pure instinct. His hands were free, made stronger by testosterone and pure adrenaline rushing through his veins. He reached forward and pushed with all his might, yelling "Get off me. Get off me you sick fuck. Get off me."

He reached his hand over his head and grabbed at something soft and fluffy. He didn't care what it was. Right now, it was the only thing protecting him. He started moving away from his attacker, using his hands for support. _He had no legs. They had taken away his legs so he couldn't escape. But he would. Even if the angels_ _had given up on him… he wouldn't let Alistair win._ He kept repeating the mantra over and over as he toppled off the side off the bed and started moving towards the darkest corner he could find, barely registering that he wasn't in the cage, he was in his house, _safe_. He squeezed himself in the small space between the dresser and his wardrobe, pressing the pillow tightly to his crotch, and took large gulps of air to calm down his heart.

Once the brain fog cleared, he took in his surroundings. It wasn't the cage, it was his bedroom. The man standing before him, naked and with severely a mortified look on his face, wasn't Alistair, it was Cas, the man he loved. There was wet, dark line on the carpet, from the side of the bed right to his ass, and he realised he was sitting in some sticky and warm… _Pee!_ He was sitting in his own pee. He looked down at the pillow, not daring to look at the man he had hurt so badly, tears forming silently as Alistair's cruel words ringed in his ears, "You'll never rid of me, Dean. We are too alike you and me. Don't fight it, major, accept it. Wherever you are, whenever you are, I'll always be with you."

And Dean had fought it. Again and again, with everything he had. But he had lost. Alistair had finally won. Even five years later, even thousands of miles away, even in the arms of that one person he felt the safest with, Alistair had found him. Found him and taken away his haven. _Alistair was right. He wasn't strong enough. If he couldn't protect himself, how the hell would he protect_ _those he loved?_ He sat there staring at his pillow, as if it would offer him some answers… something… _anything_.

Then Cas moved, fast… swift… with perfect precision of a seasoned soldier. He was down on his knees and lifting Dean up, pillow and all, and moving towards bathroom, not caring that he was naked with half an erection or the man he was carrying his arms was leaking all over him. All he knew was he had to get Dean clean, warm, safe. He never wanted to see Dean like this ever again.

He almost kicked the bathroom door open and set him down in the tub, before turning on the lights. Dean was still holding onto his pillow, staring at it in a near catatonic state. He crouched down beside the tub, and gently pried it from his hands, they fell away without complaint, and threw it towards the open door. He would take care of it later. Right now, Dean needed him. He turned on the shower to hot, and held it over Dean's waist, then moving towards his legs, letting the water wash away the excrement. It was only when he reached back to his stomach and started moving upwards that Dean reached forward and stopped his hand. He looked up to find Dean looking at him, a blank, lost expression on his face. "What are you doing here, Cas?" he asked.

"Washing you," Cas replied trying his dammest to lighten the mood, even though he knew it wasn't possible. He had always maintained that "a good sense of humour dissipates all problems." Nicky had taught him that. He forced himself to smile, for Dean's sake, even though all he wanted to do was hold him and never let him go. "Unless you are into kinky stuff," he added.

Dean lips turned up a little at that, but his eyes still had the same haunted expression. "What are you doing here, Cas?" he asked again. "Here, with me?" he added.

Cas knew this question was coming ever since Dean had first asked him "why are you still here?" and he had been praying that it never came. What could he say was the real reason he was here? The real reason, he had been travelling for the past two years. He had wanted to tell it to Dean on the first day, but he never had the courage. He didn't have courage now, either. He had offered another answer then. He offered another one now. "Because I love you," he replied, hoping it would be sufficient.

"Why?" Dean asked a little louder, the grip on his arm tightening. "Why do you love me? _Me?_ What have I to offer you… an angel… so beautiful… I'm just a broken shell of a man. Why are you staying with me, Cas?"

"Because I want to," Cas replied his voice calm, strong. He had never had to justify why he loved someone, and with Dean, he didn't want to. He didn't want to tell the truth. Not now, not like this. "Because I love you. More than anything. Because you are kind and warm and generous and the _best_ thing that has ever happened to me in my lonely sad pathetic little life."

"Best, huh?" Dean glared at him, his eyes blazing, voice on the verge of explosion. "You call this best? This...this...this thing we have... you really think it's the best thing that happened to you? What _do_ you know about me? You have barely known me for month. I'll tell you how _best,"_ he spat the word. "I am. I am cranky… no! Scratch that. I'm a fuckin' dormant volcano waiting to blow up. I'm paranoid and depressed and suicidal. I'm an alcoholic and I drink till I can't fuckin' feel anything. I scream myself hoarse every night AND WAKE UP WITH MY BED SHEETS COVERED IN SWEAT AND PEE BECAUSE," he gestured angrily at his legs, "I'M NOT EQUIPPED TO RUN TO THE BATHROOM IN TIME. IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT TO AWAKE UP TO EVERYDAY?"

"Well, we could always change the sheets," Cas replied, trying to lighten the mood and calm him down.

But Dean just kept going. "You think if you look past the wheelchair, you're going to see rainbows and candycanes? NO! I AM AS BROKEN ON THE INSIDE AS I'M ON THE OUTSIDE!"

"Dean…" Cas found his voice. "Dean… please just…"

"I can't Cas…" he said dejectedly, his voice suddenly falling to a whisper. "I am lost and I am tired. I can't fight anymore. Please Cas… please… have mercy on me. Just go away. Find someone who'll make you happy. Give you everything I can't. You deserve it. But please... just… just let me be..."

"NO!" Cas replied, his voice even, unwavering. "No, I won't leave you alone. And No, I won't go away. I am here because I want to be here. Because I've always wanted to be here. With you."

"Cas…" Dean started, but Cas held up his hand and silenced him.

He stood up, shut off the water, replaced the hand shower, and sat on the edge of the tub, rubbing his face. "Let me get it out. I may not be able to work up the courage again," he replied. He took a deep breath. "When you first asked me why I was here, I didn't exactly tell you truth. Or rather, I told only half the truth."

"Cas?" Dean murmured and Cas looked to curiosity… confusion… conflict in his face.

He swallowed dryly. "It's true I didn't have any place to be. But it wasn't that I didn't have any place to go. I had a definite destination. I was looking for someone," he said not breaking the eye contact. "I was looking... for you. I was looking for you because I was in love with you."

"But you didn't even know me," Dean interjected.

"Not really. Only on paper. When I got you out, you kept calling me angel. _An Angel_ , Major, that's what you called me. I was there when they cleaned you up and administered basic first-aid. You held onto me with all your strength… bloodied, bruised and dying and you were holding onto me, like I was the only thing keeping you alive. I had never had even anyone who had held me like that… made me feel so important… wanted… not since Nicky. And then you smiled, it was sudden, unexpected, like you were thinking about some joke only we shared. And I… couldn't tear my eyes away from you. All I wanted to do was keep you safe, make sure you never suffered like that ever again. When they lifted you and shipped you back here, I couldn't control the pang of regret that I may have lost the only good thing that had ever happened to me."

"I sought you, out. When I returned to US, six months after we found you, I went to the hospital. I saw you… bandages, stitches… you looked like _Frankenstein's_ _Monster_." Dean huffed a laugh. "But you weren't alone. You were cradling a baby, cooing to it, and a tired-looking blonde woman was looking at you like you meant the world to her. Dee and Jess," he clarified "And I thought what any normal person would think. Your wife and kid. So I just left."

He looked back at Dean, and found another expression on his face. Recognition. "The hobo," he said. " _You're_ the hobo with freakish blue eyes, aren't you? The one who left me that amulet."

"Genesius of Rome," Cas admitted. "Patron saint of comedians and…" he said placing a hand on his chest "torture victims." He smiled sadly. "Sad, isn't it? How those two are related?"

"And when I was discharged, I had no place to go. And all I could think about was you. How you had held on to me and called me angel. I figured… even if you were straight, and married… maybe just being around you, being your friend… I could have everything I'd lost…" he swiped a hand across his eyes wiping away the tears before they began to form. "And when Sam told me you were bi— I guess I got a little greedy. Saw my chance and had to take it. That night we had that fight about the phone, I thought I would lose you all over again."

"You are my everything, Major. I can't even think of a life without you. How could I ever think about leaving you?" he said softly on the verge of tears.

Dean moved forward and pulled him close. "Cas," he said softly. "It won't be easy. You saw what happened today. I can't promise it won't happen again. I love you, I trust you but what happened there… it's gonna stay with me forever."

"Maybe," Cas replied slowly pulling back, and cupping his cheek. "But we'll get through it. We'll defeat him together. I'll be with you all the way, as long as it takes. I waited four years, I don't mind waiting a few more. I'd rather burn in hell with you, than find heaven without you."

Dean smiled and pulled him closed. "Is that line from some cheesy Julia Roberts movie?"

"Na… I made it up all by myself," Cas retorted. "Now move over. I smell like someone peed on me."

Dean shifted a little and let Cas share the tub with him. That was the day he realised he was completely, utterly and madly in love with this blue-eyed angel.


	6. Adam and Claire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because the other shoe always drops… whether we like it or not. (a.k.a. Time to raise the stakes and introduce some new perspectives)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S The therapy Cas uses on Dean is partly based on the stuff I found off the Internet and partly on personal experiences of someone I know (They were kind enough to allow me to use it). It involves a no. of steps like personal sessions (self acceptance, "it wasn't my fault"), family and couple counseling (sharing the experience, trust issues), group therapy etc. It took my friend about 5 years to get intimate again, but I figured Dean would be much more impatient. Not to mention, he and Cas have already pretty much covered all the other bases. Book Titles are real, tho'.

**Part 5.2**

A young man squinted at the white suburban two-story apartment house and swiped a hand across his face, pushing his floppy, dirty blonde hair out of his eyes. He took a deep breath and walked up the driveway, the mailbox identifying the place as belonging to the "Winchesters". He walked up to the front porch, reached behind the third potted plant on the left side for the spare key, unlocked the door and let himself in.

He walked directly to the fridge, it had a note taped to it. He ignored the note, took a bottle of water and gulped it down in one go. He refilled the bottle with tap, replaced it, then took out another one and took his time drinking it. Then, he reached for the note. "We're at work. Food's in the fridge. EAT! P.S. You're picking Dee up at 3.30."

He checked his watch, 12.00 PM. He scoffed a laugh, set the alarm for 3, crumpled the note and threw it in the bin. He trudged up the stairs towards the guest bedroom, toed off his shoes and fell on the bed. One minute later, he was asleep.

-x-x-x-

Claire was going through Sam's appointments for the week when the phone on her desk rang. She looked up to see her boss at the end of the line, a gruff expression on his face, going through the file she had placed on his desk 10 minutes ago. Confused, she picked up the phone.

"Hey, you doing anything tonight?" Sam asked not looking up.

Claire took a deep breath. She had been dreading this conversation since the minute she stepped into the office and Sam Winchester sized her up with a placid smile, saying, "I'm sure we'll get along nicely." She shook her head, then realized he was still waiting. "No," she replied forcing her voice to stay even.

"Can you come to my house at…" he checked the personal appointments log on his desk "6.30 PM? We're having a small dinner…"

"Yes," Claire replied quickly, hoping her voice didn't betray her fear. Her last boss had overworked her to death when she had said 'no' and she been forced to quit, the one before that had tried to corner her in the parking lot and fired her when she called for help. She couldn't afford to lose the job anymore, especially since she didn't really have any blazing recommendations and the job market was very unkind at the moment. She looked up to see Sam smiling at her, smiling fondly as if all was right in the world.

"Excellent. Dress casually," he replied and replaced the receiver and turned back to the file in front of him.

She forced herself to smile back, as she replaced the receiver with shaky hands.

-x-x-x-

Dean replaced the book and sighed. _"_ _The Survivor's Guide to Sex: How to Have an Empowered Sex Life After Sexual Abuse_ _"_ was not what he should be reading on his anniversary. He had no idea why he was reading it in the first place. Well, apart from the fact that that he was fucking bored. There was nothing to do – Cas was a control freak with OCD – nothing on TV – there's only so many times you can watch Dr. Sexy have crazy elevator sex with anything in skirts – and Cas was off at work. Before Cas, he had spent his off days, too, at the garage, but now Cas made him stay home and relax. _Well, he didn't relax._ _So Cas could suck it._ He turned around. Maybe he would just start reading _Jailbird_ again. Anything was better than the stash of psychobabble crap Cas kept in their old room.

After that episode, that night, Cas had tried to talk him about visiting a therapist. But Dean Winchester didn't do "therapist". They made you talk about feelings, and Dean told him _exactly_ what he felt. For once, Cas didn't press the issue, but Dean knew they weren't done yet. Sure enough, a few days later, the courier guy turned up with a bunch of books Cas had ordered off the internet – "A Rape Survivors Guide To Relearning Intimate Touch", "Rape Recovery Handbook" etc… etc. He explicitly told Dean that whether he liked it or not, Dean was doing his therapy and if he didn't want to visit a therapist, Cas was going to talk to him. _Well, just his luck the guy he was dating would turn out to be Sigmund Freud._

The process was hard. _No_ , _literally_ , because it meant lying almost naked near each other and feeling each other's bodies, just getting used to being so close to each other. Cas wanted Dean to get used to trusting him with his body. Dean claimed Cas was just being a tease. "Yeah, well, you have no other choice. So suck it up," Cas snapped gently pawing him.

Cas was worse than Lisa Braeden and Lisa had been a therapist from Hell. When Cas wondered how the heck Lisa had managed to get him to do anything, he snapped "She flashed me," hoping Cas would take the hint and leave him alone.

"I'll let you have sex with me," Cas deadpanned. Dean couldn't help but laugh and let Cas do whatever it was he was doing. It was freaking hot and freaking weird at the same time.

The first time, they had done this Dean had been tense as fuck. He knew it was Cas, and Cas would never hurt him, but he couldn't help going back to the rack. He had scrunched his eyes tightly, counted backwards from 100, sang "Hey Jude" to himself. Of course, Saint Castiel of Sioux Falls, South Dakota, had been a grounding presence. "I'm here, Dean. I'm here. Look at me. I'm not going to hurt you. I got you… I love you." When that didn't work, the guy sang _Enter_ _Sandman,_ and they just spooned for the rest of the night. By their 10th session, Dean was proud to say he was comfortable to let Cas grope him and grope him back. By their 16th session, he was cool with sleeping naked together. And finally, tonight, their 20th session, they were planning to have sex. Dean was pretty excited. It was kinda like losing his virginity all over again, only this time he would be sober and in love the person. He wondered if it was pathetic that he was being a little _**Twilight**_ about it.

It wasn't like all the days were good. He still had nightmares because, as Castiel Freud claimed, "20 months of Hell, and 4 years of repression, isn't going to go away in one day, it takes time." When he bitched – he wasn't exactly proud of it, but Cas looked so adorable trying to discipline him, in a totally hot teacher kinda way, that he just couldn't resist – Cas had snapped, "You're a pain in my ass."

"I thought that's the plan, sweetheart," he'd commented, oh so sweetly. _And god, could the guy blush!_ His entire body, which was horribly pale, had turned pink, right from the toes to the tips of ears. That night, Dean slept with a smile on his face.

But he hadn't had a nightmare for almost a week now and Cas was very proud of both of them. They had celebrated by finally getting around to watching **_Brave_**. This whole therapy session was probably the most intimate thing anyone had ever done. And it was going so good he never wanted it to end. Cas had once said that he had no intention of leaving. And Dean was going to make sure he would never have a reason to. He was planning to seal the deal tonight.

Now, there was only one hurdle he had yet to cross. It wasn't really a hurdle as much as a valley of hot smoldering lava. Adam. Dean wasn't sure how Adam would take to him dating someone. And he hadn't told Cas about him, because that would mean explaining who he was, and the truth about his parents, and Dean wasn't sure if he was ready to do that just yet. He figured he would have to tell Cas someday, preferably tonight before he proposed, that he also had a kid.

-x-x-x-

At exactly 3.00 PM, Dr. Adam Milligan, "Winchester to family and friends", shot off the bed to the insistent sound of his alarm. At 3.01, he was standing in the shower, the spray turned to the coldest. Standing before the mirror, he decided to forgo shaving, then decided against it. He didn't want to scare Dee with his "homeless guy" appearance. He shaved quickly, leaving a slight stubble, because completely shaven he still looked 17. He stripped off his dirty clothes and changed into the clean ones. At exactly 3.18, he was out the door.

He reached Dee's school with barely a minute to spare. The bell rang just as he pulled in the parking lot. As the kids started piling out, he looked over the sea of toddlers for the familiar mop of blond hair, a teddy bear clutched under her arm. He found what he was looking for, but curiously she was holding two teddies, a smaller beige coloured nestling in Uncle Dean's arms. _Strange._

"Cookiemonster!" he shouted as Dee got closer. She immediately perked up and launched herself in his direction, with the determination of a Winchester and a distinct "nom nom" sound. He ignored the few curious glances shot his way, bending down and swiping her off the ground before she could attach herself to his leg. He had it on a very good, and a very uncomfortable, authority that it was difficult to detach her once she stuck herself to you. She was kinda like dad that way.

"Uncle Adam," the girl whispered circling her arms around his neck, the teddy bears squashing his pulse point.

It amazed him how she managed to carry out all her daily activities without relinquishing the hold over her precious Uncle Dean. "Hey kiddo," he muttered, raking a hand through her hair as she sighed contently at his neck, tightening the hold. "I missed you too."

"Do you have my cookies?" she asked instead.

He smiled. The kid was as bad with feelings talk as dad. He plopped her down in the passenger seat and buckled her in, before reaching into the glove compartment and taking out a packet of chocochip cookies, he kept around. "Only two," he said handing them to her and sticking one in his mouth, "Or your mom will kill me." Dee chuckled at that.

"So… who's your new friend?" he asked her halfway to the house."Uncle Cas," she replied matter-of-factly.

"Uncle Cas?" he wondered. They didn't know anyone named _Cas_. He looked at her and she was looking back at him in the typical "God, adults are so stupid. Why am I the only one who knows things" look he had seen on the kids her age.

"Uncle Cas," she replied slowly, sympathizing with him for being so dumb. "Uncle Dean's new friend," she added helpfully when he remained as clueless as ever.

"Uncle Dean's…?" _Dad's new friend?_ He thought confused. _Oh_ … as the sudden realization came to him. _Dad's dating someone!?_

He pulled up in front of the house, just as he saw Jess' car turn in the driveway. He unbuckled Dee and sent her running towards the house, and hurried to help his sister carry the groceries in. He placed the groceries on the counter and turned to Jessica. "Dad's dating someone?" he asked, his voice barely masking the betrayal.

"Hey, Adam. I hope you had a nice journey. I did, Jessica. How are you? I am fine, Adam. Thanks for asking," Jessica mimicked sarcastically.

Adam dismissed the sarcasm with a wave and settled on the bar stool just as Dee sneaked up and grabbed hold of his leg, squatting beside it. Now his right leg was sandwiched between Dee and her teddies, in a vice grip. He sighed and looked at his sister who was smiling fondly at the spectacle.

"How long has dad been dating this _Cas_ guy?" he asked again. "And what _do_ you know about him?"

"Why don't you ask _him_?" Jessica replied instead. She had learnt a long time ago that it was better to stay away from Adam and his daddy issues. She bent down and pried her daughter's fingers from Adam's leg, picked her up and went upstairs.

Adam took a deep breath and dialed.

-x-x-x-

The phone rang just as Dean finished rinsing his plate. He had been too engrossed in his book, but Cas would be home in about 2 hours and he would want to know why Dean hadn't eaten his lunch. So he had reluctantly put the book down and ate the "healthy" – "Healthy, my ass. It's rabbit food" – food that Cas forced him to eat as a part of his therapy. Now instead of pokers and brands, Alistair ambushed him with lettuce and French beans.

He picked the phone without bothering to check the caller id. "Hey Sa—" he started but was cut off with "Say Sammy. I dare you to say Sammy."

"Hey Adam," he corrected himself.

"Oh, so you do remember who I am," Adam replied sarcastically.

"Adam, what's wrong?" he asked patiently. Adam was quite volatile, especially as far as Dean was concerned.

"What's wrong? What's—" Adam scoffed. "Who's this Cas guy? How long have you known him? What does he do? Where does he stay? Does he have a criminal record? Family members? Known associates? Contagious diseases? Do I need to run a full background check on this guy?" Dean was bombarded with a volley of questions.

He sighed, wondering if he would have to strangle Sam or Jess. "Okay," he replied. "His name is Castiel. Short for James Castiel Novak. He is an ex-Marine and was a part of the team that rescued me. Or rather _he_ was the guy who pulled me out."

"Oh," Adam murmured and Dean could feel his anger coming down, so he continued, "We have been together for a month. Actually, today is our anniversary. He has no family, he works at Bobby's and lives with me and, as far as I know, has no criminal record or serious diseases. Also I don't think you need to run a background check on this guy. I know pretty much everything about him. Oh… you might remember him as the hobo who gave you that pendent."

"Hobo?" Adam asked disbelievingly. "You are dating the hobo from the hospital? What is he, a stalker or something?" The anger was back in his voice. He had seen the hobo with freakish blue eyes loitering around the hospital quite few times. He hadn't told anyone about it because Sam was always on edge and well… he couldn't risk sending dad into another panic attack.

Then one day, the hobo had approached him, handed him a small packet saying "it will help him" and went away. He never saw the guy after that. He had contemplated for days whether he should give it to dad or not. He even sent it to a crime lab for checking. It was clean… just some amulet of a saint. St. Genesius, Patron Saint of Torture Victims, the report had said. So, he had finally, reluctantly, and against his better judgement passed it on. But if this guy thought he could hurt dad after all these years, he had another thing coming.

"Adam! Relax!" Dean raised his voice. "Breathe… It was purely accidental. He was in town looking for work and we ran into each other..."

Adam huffed. Dad wasn't thinking straight. The guy was very good looking, even he had to admit that, but clearly, he had an agenda. Not everyone was dad. Not everyone really cared about another person without wanting something in return. _What was that guy aiming for?_ He took a deep breath. He couldn't talk sense into dad, but he damn well could talk to _that_ guy. Find out what his end game was and tell him to fuck off. _He wasn't gonna let some cheap piece of ass hurt his dad._ "Okay," he finally replied. "I wanna talk to this guy."

"Adam," Dean's voice was hard. "I know what you're trying to do, and I suggest you don't. I really like him and I'm planning to propose…"

"Propose?" Adam interjected. This was more serious than he thought.

Dean flushed. "Uh… yeah… kinda…" but Adam interrupted "I'll just introduce myself, welcome him to the family. Really. No shenanigans, I swear." Dean heaved a sigh of relief. He knew Adam wouldn't trust Cas, but he sounded sincere enough. "Call the garage. Ask for Castiel. And no threats."

"No threats," Adam replied disconnecting the call. His dad was an excellent judge of character and if he said the guy was cool, then he must be. But then, what if he was just stringing dad along? And dad was actually falling for it? He just didn't want dad to get hurt.

-x-x-x-

Castiel banged down the hood of the truck he was working on just as the phone rang. He looked around. Bobby was busy with a customer, so he took the call. "Singer's Garage and Salvage Yard," he replied.

"I'm looking for Castiel," a male voice said. Cas stiffened. No one except Dean called him at the garage and this was not Dean.

"I'm Castiel, who're you?"

The guy on the other took a deep breath. "My name is Adam. Adam Winchester. You might remember me as the guy you gave that pendent to, at Dean's hospital. And it has come to my attention that you're dating my dad."

"There must be some mistake," Cas replied seriously confused. The guy at the hospital had to be about 18. That made him somewhere around 23-24. So unless Dean was out impregnating girls at 10, there was no way this guy was Dean's son. "Dean is barely 34…"

"Yeah, I know how old my dad is, thank you very much," Adam snapped. "I promised him I wasn't gonna say anything. But I want to know what are you looking for?"

"What I— What are you talking about?" Cas asked.

"Look," Adam replied, his voice extremely even and curt. "I don't know you, but whatever it is you think you're gonna get by stringing him along, you're wrong."

"Wait!" Cas sat down, realizing what the other guy was trying to say. "Are you implying that I'm expecting some kind of pay off?" he asked.

"Well… aren't you? Or else why would someone like _you_ ," Cas could hear contempt in the voice, "get attached to an invalid like Dean. If you think some sweet talk and pity fucking is gonna get you…"

"Look. Adam." Cas cut in, his anger rising. He could handle people calling him names, but no one insulted his Major... _no_ _one._ Not in front of him. "First… I'll be dammed if I pity the guy who's fucking me. Second… Dean is not an invalid… or a cripple… or whatever it is you cunts call him behind his back. Dean Winchester is more of a man than you'll ever be, so don't you fucking _dare_ call him that _ever_ again. You hear me, you little piece of shit." Adam fell silent, taken aback. No one had ever jumped this quickly or this ferociously to his dad's defence before.

Someone knocked at the office door and Cas looked up to see Bobby standing there, a concerned look on his face. Behind him, Max looked ready to burst into tears – raised voices really scared him. Cas shook his head. Thankfully, Bobby just nodded and closed the door behind him. Cas raked a hand through his hair and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. The last thing he needed right now was Max breaking down and having to do damage control.

"And as far as the house and the job are concerned," Cas continued when there was no interruption from the other side "your _dad_ knows about all about it and he offered to let me stay because I was a friend, not because he wanted to get into my pants. You should know better than to say that. Hell, I didn't even know he was gay until _after_ I started living with him. And that was only because Sam told me."

Adam exhaled at the other end, still quiet. Cas took it as an indication that he was to keep talking. "Look, I know you don't trust me, anymore than I trust you. But I'd like it if we got to know each other."

"So… so you know about…" When Adam finally spoke, it was so soft that Cas actually had to strain to hear the words. "Nightmares?" he finished the sentence. Adam nodded, until he realized the guy couldn't see him. "Yeah," he whispered.

"Well, it's kinda hard not to when you are living in the same house," Cas replied softly. "But I thought he hadn't told anyone about them."

"He hasn't. I mean… not recently," Adam replied. "We all know about them from before. But I'm a doctor. Trauma Surgeon at Stanford Med. We get lots of PTSD cases… Besides he believes in drowning his pain in whiskey… it can't have done wonders for him. But maybe you can do something to help him…" he added.

Cas could hear the desperation in his voice. He knew what it felt like when someone you cared about was hurting _that_ bad and you couldn't do anything about it. "Look Adam," he said as gently as he could. "I'm trying. And it's working… somewhat. He's having less nightmares now," he replied, hoping maybe it would get the boy to start accepting him. "But it's gonna take time. The therapy…"

"Therapy?" the boy sat up at the word. "He's undergoing therapy?" he asked. _Dad didn't do "therapy". They made you talk about feelings…_

"It's not like he has much choice," Cas replied, smiling. "Just like he has no choice about eating his veggies," he shared conspiratorially.

Adam laughed at that. The image of dad and veggies was too much for him. He was worse than Dee when it came to eating "rabbit food". And if this guy could make him to do that… dad was totally and completely whupped. He wasn't even gonna think about breaking them up.

"Hey Cas," he finally said. "Tell dad, you have my approval. And he can tell you about me," he smiled. "Oh… and Happy Anniversary. I'll see you, Cas."

Just like that, the call disconnected and Cas was left wondering about the most bizarre conversation of his life.


	7. A Dinner and A Proposal

**Part 5.3**

Claire Milton parked her orange WV Beetle in the Bernal Heights area of San Francisco, behind an old but well-maintained pickup truck, that looked seriously out of place in the affluent neighbourhood. The letters on the rear windshield proclaimed "S.A.D.", which is exactly what she was feeling right now.

She smoothed down her skirt – Sam had told her to dress casually, but one of girls at her earlier jobs had told her that these lawyer types usually had the secretary kink. She hoped he would be gentle, he looked the aggressive kind, and it wasn't like anyone would believe her even if she complained. Sam Winchester was really well-liked around the office, apart from being the VP's practically adopted son, and on a fast track to becoming the youngest head of their legal department. He, also, had a very good looking wife, Jessica, who she really liked. She felt really bad doing this to her, especially because Jessica reminded her of Anna, but she really needed the job. She just couldn't afford to get fired.

She bit back her tears and wished that Anna was here to protect her. She wiped the tears away, powdered her nose and dabbed a fresh coat of lipstick. She took a deep breath, pasted a smile on her face, hoping he wouldn't notice how scared she was, and walked towards the white suburban two-story apartment house with a mailbox proclaiming "Winchesters". She rang the bell twice and waited for the harrowing evening to begin.

She first realized something amiss when Sam Winchester opened the door looking like a male model in the Sears casual section and asked, "You found the place okay?"

She nodded as he stepped back to let her in and extended his hands for her coat, instead of just pulling it off of her. She quietly handed it to him and she noticed a couple of other coats hanging alongside hers. Sudden tears of relief sprang to her eyes, just Sam turned to face her. "Are you alright?" he asked concerned.

"You are not alone?" she asked her voice almost a whisper.

Confusion clouded his face as he asked, "Why would I be alone?" When Claire continued to stare guiltily at her feet, he smiled reassuringly with "Don't worry. I have no intention of hurting you. You can leave if you want, but I'd rather you stayed. It's just a small family dinner."

Claire looked at her boss like he was an alien. _What was wrong with him?_ _Why was he being so nice to her?_ She nodded and followed him inside.

Sam told her to wait in the very homely looking living room as he went inside, came back and wordlessly handed her a coke, then herded her out to the patio. He walked over to a grey-haired man wearing an expensive suit, staring at his drink, and a woman, probably his wife, who kept throwing glances at the far corner of the garden. Claire followed the look and saw a young man about her age, looking as out of place as she felt, talking animatedly to a little girl bouncing in his arms.

"Oh, hey Claire," Sam called her over. "Claire, this is my father-in-law, Alan Moore," he said addressing the man – the man smiled politely at her – "and that's Kathleen, my mother-in-law", Claire couldn't figure out whether the woman was smiling, or had gas, or one Botox injection too many, she smiled politely and muttered her greetings. "And this is Claire, we work together," he said introducing her.

The doorbell rang and Sam excused himself, leaving her alone with the Botox lady and her hen-pecked husband. "So… Claire," the Botox lady spoke, tearing her eyes away from the man and the kid. "What exactly do you do?"

"I'm Mr. Winchester's secretary," she replied. And the woman suddenly turned a death glare on her. Claire fumbled a step back just as Sam reappeared with Zachariah Smith and a fragile looking, impeccably dressed socialite.

"Claire," Sam called her over once again. "I think you know Zachariah Smith…"

"Call me Zach," the man corrected in a slight English accent, taking a step forward and raising her hand to his lips in a very courteous gesture.

"And this charming lady is Pandora, his wife," Sam smiled flirtingly at the woman, raising her hand to his lips, and she smiled fondly at him as if bestowing him with her grace. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go help the Missus with dinner." Pandora laughed, a soft delicate laugh befitting her, and "Zach" winked at him. Claire was surprised at how comfortable Sam seemed in their company.

Sam left, and the Smiths floated towards the Moores, leaving her alone. Seemingly with nothing better to do, she found herself moving in direction of the young man and the kid. She was nearing the couple when the man set the girl down and she shot past her towards the group. Claire stopped and turned around to follow the girl's movements.

The girl came to a halt behind the Smiths, and gently tugged at Mr. Smith's trouser. When he looked down at her, she curtsied gracefully, then did the same thing to Mrs. Smith, then took a step back and curtsied the group as a whole, before turning around and taking a couple of steps very elegantly away from them, then shooting off towards the young man who had come to stand beside her, seemingly aiming for his legs.

But before she could reach him, the man took a few steps forward and swiped her off her feet and they both started laughing. Claire couldn't help but join in. She looked at the group who were busy pretending to ignore them, except the Botox lady who was glaring now.

"What's her problem?" she muttered under her breath.

"Oh, it's just her face," the guy replied moving back towards his corner, away from the death glare. Claire went with him. "Adam Winchester, by the way," the man said turning towards her and extending his hand. "Sam's nephew."

"Claire Milton," she replied shaking it. "Sam's secretary."

"And this cookiemonster," Adam continued, tickling the girl in his arms "is Dee." The girl giggled and flailed wildly, but her teddy remained as it was.

"Deanna Mary Winchester," the kid corrected with a tired exasperation, after her giggles subdued. "I was named after my grandmom and Uncle Dean. This is Uncle Dean," Dee added thrusting her teddy towards Claire. "They wouldn't let me get Uncle Cas, because he's new and no one knows about him yet," she turned to her uncle. "That's not fair. That's. Not. Fair," she stated very slowly, arms coming across her chest and a distinct scowl on her face.

Adam laughed. "Sorry, she gets like that sometimes. Dad says it's the Winchester genes. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go put her to bed."

He carried the girl inside the house, just as Sam appeared and told everyone to come in for dinner.

-x-x-x-

Dean was nervous. Very _very_ nervous. He had planned everything – reservations, the very Julia Roberts proposal – he'd wanted everything to be perfect and then Adam had called and everything had just gone down the drain.

He had tried calling Cas afterwards, but all he got "we'll talk when I get home." He should have known better than to give Adam Cas' contact information. The boy could get quite jealous. He cradled his head in his hands and waited for the upcoming shit-storm.

At 7.00, he got a call from Cas. "Get ready, I'm coming to pick you up. And I won't be waiting more than I have to."

Dean clicked off the call and hurried to get dressed.

-x-x-x-

The dinner was probably the most awkward one of Claire's life, and she considered herself a veteran of awkward dinners. The Smiths and Mr. Moore completely ignored her and Adam, while Mrs. Moore glared at them like she was trying to burn holes through their skulls. Only Jessica and Sam acknowledged their presence and tried to make them as comfortable they could, under the circumstances.

After dinner Jessica announced her pregnancy and, later, Adam shooed her and Sam away to entertain the guests, clearing away the dishes by himself. Claire lingered behind with him, not sure how exactly she fit in their social circle, and he pointed out that he didn't fit in either, but family's family, "You just learn to suck it up." And they talked.

He said he didn't really mind cleaning and stuff because he had been raised by a single mom. Also, he wasn't really Sam's nephew but Sam's brother, Dean, had sort of adopted him after his mom died. And Uncle Cas, or Castiel, was Dean's boyfriend-slash-soon-to-be-husband and today was their anniversary.

And later when she was leaving, he walked her to her car – apparently the SAD truck belonged to him, it was a graduation present from his dad and Sam, and SAD stood for Sam, Adam and Dean – and asked her out.

Claire went home to her loft with a smile. Maybe Anna really _was_ watching over her.

-x-x-x-

Dean was waiting outside when Cas pulled up in the Impala. He had taken Dean's van for work, so Dean assumed it was still parked at the Roadhouse. Cas got down, gave him a slight smile and a quick kiss before telling him to get in.

Dean got in as quickly as he could, leaving Cas to take the wheelchair back inside. This gave him time to stash his gift under his seat. Cas wordlessly got in, started the car and turned towards the highway. Only then did he turn to his boyfriend and issued a "talk".

Dean slumped in his seat and rubbed a hand over his face. "Did you talk to him? Did he say anything?"

"He said a lot of things," Cas replied not taking his eyes of the road. "But he did say you could tell me about him."

Dean sighed and slumped further into his seat, the weight off his shoulders. "Well… he's not my kid."

"Yeah, I figured as much, considering he's what 23…24?"

"25, actually," Dean replied. "He turned 25 two weeks before we met. Smart kid. He's a trauma surgeon at Stanford Medical. Top of his class."

"Yeah, he told me all that. Still doesn't explain who exactly he is? Your half-brother?"

Dean laughed sadly. "Half-brother, yes. Mine, no. His name isn't Adam Winchester, like he claims. It's Milligan. Adam Milligan-Moore. He's Jessica's half-brother."

That got Cas' attention. "Jessica's…?"

"Yeah," Dean muttered. "Well… her dad was quite the womanizer back in the day. Got his sites on one of his secretaries. Had an affair, got her pregnant… all that jazz. But apparently Ms. Kate Milligan was no spring chicken. She started blackmailing him. He's a public figure… there would be a scandal if this got out… but he isn't stupid. He knew she wouldn't be going anywhere, so instead of paying _her_ off, he invested the money in a trust fund that _Adam_ would get when he matured, on the condition that the father remained anonymous. So the pissed off Ms. Milligan made arrangements that in the event of her death, before Adam turned 18, he was to be sent off to the Moores along with paternity tests to prove that he's Alan Moore's illegitimate son and the details of the trust fund he had set to cover it up. Very soap opera. All that was missing was crappy background music and shady lighting."

_No wonder the guy was thinking of end games and pay offs,_ Cas thought. "So then what?"

"Then Ms. Milligan and Adam get into a car crash. Mum dies on the spot, kid survives and the next thing you know that kid's lying in the damn hospital, he's got no mother, no other family to speak off, his dad doesn't want him… d'you know he wasn't even ready to sign the consent form for the surgery… That's not responsibility, man… that's humanity. Dumb luck I was visiting Sam that weekend and he'd just started dating Jessica. I took the responsibility, applied for guardianship. That's the most impulsive thing I've ever done. Mr. Moore pulled a few strings… He's a big cheese up there, went to school with a senator… By the time the kid was discharged, I was legally a parent."

Dean turned to look at Cas, who was staring at him with an open mouth. Dean reached forward and closed it. "Look at the road, babe." Cas looked ahead and motioned for him to continue.

"Well… Then I guess Mr. Moore grew a friggin' conscience. Shipped him off to a prep school in NY, paid for the tuitions and boards… continued with the trust fund… etc etc. But then Adam started telling anyone who would listen that his dad's name was Dean Winchester. The first time he introduced me as his dad, I was pissed. I mean… when you're 24 and some 15 year old says you're his dad, it doesn't really go down well… especially with the ladies you've been shamelessly hitting on. So, I told the kid what I thought about him calling me that. He broke down, saying I was ashamed of him and didn't want him anymore." He looked at Cas who was still looking at the road. "A 15 year old boy crying in the middle of an all-boys prep school on Visitation Day. That… is not a pretty sight. _Especially_ if you are a 24 year old closet case. So I told him he could call me anything he wanted. Hell, I would've let him call me Princess Cinderella if that'd got him to shut up." Cas laughed. "Of course, then I had to explain that I was his legal guardian, a distant cousin of his mum's, and the poor kid was just confusing the guardianship with adoption."

Cas smiled, "You really are something else, you know?"

Dean cocked a grin, "Yeah, well, that's why you love me" and got punched in the arm for his troubles. "So what did you two talk about?"

"That's between me and him," Cas replied turning off the road and parking in front of the pond. "But he did say I have his approval." Dean grinned and pulled him in a kiss.

-x-x-x-

Cas got down, walked over to his side just as Dean pulled the shabbily wrapped gift from under seat and hid it in his pocket. Cas helped him sit on hood, then went around to the trunk and pulled a delicately wrapped present – Dean was suddenly conscious of his old newspaper wrapping – and Ellen's pie box and packed dinner.

"I'd made reservations," Dean commented. "Rizzo's where we had our first date."

"I like this place better." Cas replied. "This is where we had our actual first date and we kissed for the first time."

"More like you attacked me with your tongue, then proclaimed 'you're about to be pursued by the most arrogant and unrelenting and pain-in-the-ass man you've ever known."

"Well, it worked, didn't it?" Cas asked climbing on the hood beside him and pulling Dean's arm over his shoulders, effectively tucking into his side.

"Yeah, it did," Dean smiled happily, the way he always did when Cas was near him. "So what've we got?" he asked lowering his hand to Cas' waist and pulling them closer.

"Well… considering you've been eating rabbit food for the past week, we have double bacon cheeseburgers with extra bacon and cheese. Heart attack in every bite," he said leaning into Dean "just the way you like it." Dean sighed contentedly and nuzzled his neck. Cas smelled of sweat and grease and that sandalwood soap he loved so much... so very _Cas_. "And… loads of onion rings…" Cas leaned in even further, so he was almost on Dean's lap, baring his neck for easier access "… and… and… pie…" he almost groaned.

"Umm… I love pie," Dean muttered, taking small bite just below his left ear – Cas shivered and Dean loves it very much – and trailing kisses down to his jaw.

"Dean…" Cas whispered huskily, circling his arms around Dean. Dean hummed and continued trailing down to his neck. "Dean… stop…" he whispered, his voice even huskier, but he made no move pull back. "Dean… stop… I…" he groaned, then gently pushed at his chest "I… have something for you."

Dean moaned a protest but allowed him to pull away. Cas reached back and handed him the present. Dean took his time opening it, almost reluctant to tear away the beautiful packaging. He gasped when he finally got it open. "Waffle iron?" he asked dumbstruck. "You got me a waffle iron?"

"Well… you do like waffles. A lot. And I thought I'd make them for you…" his words trailed away, and Dean couldn't help but felt he was leaving a lot to be said. Didn't matter though, he could hear everything Cas wanted to say, even before he thought about it. He nodded. "You can make waffles for anytime you want. At least it'll take the taste of your regular cooking away" and got a very girly slap on his chest. "Shut up, my cooking's awesome. My boyfriend says so."

"Well… he wouldn't know awesome if it bit him in the ass," Dean replied and got a light punch, followed, "No one insults my Major." Dean grinned widely and kissed him. "You really love me, don't you?" The reply sounded something between "I love you" and "Oh fuck you" and he couldn't care less.

When they finally pulled away, he made no move to reach for his gift. As much as he wanted Cas, he was also looking forward to a respite from the cattle fodder he had been eating for the past week, and if he proposed right now, they would never get around to eating. Okay, so he was being selfish… but there was pie. And pie comes before everything else. No arguments. "Can I have my burger now?" he asked instead.

He could almost see the disappointment in Cas' face, "What? I thought dinner reservations would be enough. Were you expecting something else?" he asked, his voice teasing. That was for ruining his plans and waking him to **Rebecca** **Black** in the morning. Yes, he'd been so bored that he had actually googled the lyrics trying to figure out who to the send hate-mail to, before he realized that would mean acknowledging he'd actually listened to the song.

"Uh… no," Cas replied softly, reaching for the dinner bag. Okay, now Dean was feeling a little like an ass, but he knew he was going to more than make up for it later. Cas handed one burger to Dean, took the other for himself, reclaiming his earlier position in Dean's lap.

When Dean finished his burger and reached for the pie, Cas slapped his hand away. Dean now knew it was an indication that he was to be patient, and waited for Cas to finish up. Cas reached into the brown bag once again and retrieved a single candle, a lighter and a dinner knife. Then he took the pie-box into his lap and opened it.

Inside was the saddest looking pie Dean had ever seen, with "Happy Anniversary, Major" scribbled on it in Cas' neat little handwriting. He looked at Cas questioningly. "I've been learning to bake," Cas replied, almost shy. "It's a simple apple pie, nothing special. I thought I'd surprise you."

He looked so adorable that Dean couldn't help but his pull him forward and kiss him on the temple. "I'm so proud of you," he stated emphatically. _Because nothing says, "Be mine forever" like losing your baking virginity for the man you love._

Dean waited until Cas had stuck the candle in the pie. They blew it out together – he hadn't made a candle wish since he was 8 – and he took hold of Cas' hand to make the first cut. _Their own little version of the ceremony._ Cas cut out a piece and fed it to Dean, smearing a little on his nose. The filling was lumpy and sticky and _sweet –_ a crime – and the pastry was undercooked – a blasphemy – but for Dean it still was the tastiest pie he had ever eaten. He said so, proudly shouting it into the night and probably scaring away the little animals.

When Cas took his first bite, he was a bit more critical (and realistic) of his horrible baking skills, but Dean defended his boyfriend with such vigour that Cas laughed and apologized to Dean's boyfriend and acknowledged his awesomeness, and Dean shone with pride. They had to use their hands to eat, because Cas had forgotten the forks, leaving their fingers sticky.

"This is what you get for not planning ahead," Dean scolded, pulling out the wet-wipes that he'd started carrying since that accident with Dee when they had visited him. They had come in handy quite a few times afterwards, so he always made it a point to keep a few around. Cas laughed and called him "pathetic" and he retorted with "ass". Cas snuggled into his side and they made out some more.

They were somewhere on their 6th kiss when Dean suddenly pulled back, and reached into his jacket for the newspaper wrapped box. "I forgot," he said thrusting the box towards Cas. "I got something for you too."

Cas looked at him once, then tore away newspaper with a gusto, only to find a plain brown cardboard box. He opened the box in anticipation, only to find himself face to face with a slightly smaller cover box for a new cell phone. Cas flicked a look of annoyance towards him, that pointedly screamed "I don't want a fucking mobile phone", but Dean just grinned and told him to keep moving. Then came a black box, with no markings and Cas was finally on the edge. Just like Dean wanted. He opened the box with trembling fingers, half expecting another smaller box inside and found a pendent.

A beautiful angel wing pendent. A light blue stone, with dark blackish markings, that horribly resembled his eyes, rested in a silver bed. Wide silver wings magnificently arose on either side of the stone. The wings were beautiful, intrinsically carved to resemble an angel wings. Not the fluffy, mushy white wings that came with a gown and a halo. No… these were a warrior's wings. Arched, poised, ready for battle… ready to fight for what they believed in… ready to lay down their life for the one they loved, without a second thought. It was so beautiful, yet so unlike him… but the words on the note placed below it, "My Angel, I hope this makes up for all the time you spent searching for me", more than made the decision for him.

He picked up the pendent to wear it around his neck, gently cradling it in his fingers, feeling its weight in his palm almost turning to tell Dean how beautiful it was, when he saw _them_ and gaped. Two plain, silver rings, lying side by side in their soft cotton bed, slyly looked up at him. The note was attached to the bed, as if it was a part of it, not added as an afterthought to the pendent. He looked at Dean who was looking back at him, like he meant the world to him. "Dean…?" he said, barely able to keep his voice together.

Dean smiled and picked up the smaller of the rings. "James Castiel Novak, my angel, will you do me the honour of becoming my husband?" he asked quietly.

Cas stared at him… and stared… and stared, unable to speak… unable to even form a coherent thought… eyes brimming with tears that he had no idea had appeared. He just stared at Dean and the rings… and Dean… and rings.

Then Dean spoke up, "You want me to get down on one knee? Coz, I can do that. But it'll hurt like a fuck," and suddenly Cas was jolted back to earth.

"Why do you always have to ruin the moment with your crappy jokes?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Well… my _therapist_ says that's how I deal with stressful situations." Dean bit his lower lip. "Say something, man. I'm dyin' over here," he did his best Pacino impression.

Cas laughed and extended his hand till the ring was firmly established in its rightful place. He picked up the other ring and took hold of Dean's hand, pulling it towards him. "Yes… yes, I will, Dean Martin Winchester."

And suddenly Dean pulled his hand back. "Jo tell you that?" he asked horrified. "Coz I'm gonna kill the little brat, when we get home."

"You'll do no such thing, _Martin_ ," Cas asserted, pulling his hand back and slipping the ring on his finger. "Especially, not tonight when I'm looking forward to the session with my fiancé."

Dean smiled and pulled him closer. "Well, I guess everyone deserves a second chance, right?" and Cas rewarded him with another kiss. "Oh… and before I forget, I talked to Jo earlier and she's yours."

Cas stupidly looked at him. "Jo?" but Dean only smiled. "No, asshat, the Impala."

Cas stared at him again, then grinned and pulled his fiancé in a slow long kiss. Dean sighed against his mouth, then leaned forward and pulled him back into his side and rested his head in the crook of his neck and closed his eyes.

The evening may not gone the way he had planned, but it still was perfect.


	8. Our First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 20th session… or their First Time. Because everyone deserves a real first time, even though only a few extremely lucky ones are fortunate enough to get it. **[M/M Sex]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **P.S.** For the full effect, listen to **Zeppelin's** [ Stairway to Heaven](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RPg92yi8IFU) during the shower scene... coz that's what I wrote it to.

Cas parked the Impala in its rightful place in Dean's garage. They would have to make other arrangements for her tomorrow, Dean needed easy access into the house, but for now it would have to do. He helped Dean shift into the driver's seat and went inside to get his wheelchair.

When he returned he could tell Dean had been crying, but he didn't comment. He knew how much the car meant to Dean. Sam and Jo had made sure he did, even though he had known since the first time he touched her. That's why he cherished her so much. But Impala was Dean's car. He hadn't let even Sam touch her, before… and now she was being driven by strangers. Granted, Jo was not a stranger and neither was he, but they weren't  _Dean_  either.

Cas smiled as Dean moved from the car to his wheelchair and came inside. He rolled over to him on the couch and pulled him close. "Thanks," Dean whispered in his ear. He sighed and pulled him closer. "I love you, too," he replied.

Dean grinned and pulled him in a kiss… a slow, long kiss that shone with a promise of more. "I'm ready for my private session, Dr. Novak," he said cheekily.

Cas laughed and stood up. "You have to stop confusing porn with reality," he said placidly. "I'm not your "doctor" anymore."

Dean grinned.  _Reason 783, why Cas is an awesome boyfriend...er, fiancé._ When he had started bitching about the therapy sessions, Cas had converted them into a role-playing of sorts – Dr. Novak and Major Dean. And once when the nightmares were exceedingly bad, he had masqueraded as "Castiel, The Angel of the Lord", prancing around only in his trenchcoat and boxers, swooping in to rescue Dean from Hell… and it remained to this day, the highlight of Dean's life. "No… but you  _are_  my fiancé," he remarked.

Cas blushed at the word. So new… yet so correct, like it was meant to be. Cas Novak, Dean's fiancé. James Novak-Winchester, Dean Winchester's husband. Like he had always wanted… just like Nicky had always wanted. Nicky would have been so happy today… he would have given Dean the "big brother" speech and threatened to dismantle him if he ever hurt his baby brother. He tried to wipe away the tears before Dean could see them, but Dean and his freaky Jedi mind had already caught on.

"What's wrong, babe," Dean asked pulling him down, so they were on the same eye level.

"Nothing… I just couldn't help thinking about Nicky," he replied. "I miss him."

Dean nodded and kissed away his tears. "You are not alone anymore," he said. "You have me."

Cas smiled, a coy smile. "C'mon," he said walking towards their bedroom. Dean followed.

-x-x-x-

He saw Cas standing before the bed, taking off his clothes. He moved to bed and stripped off his own, reminding himself that this was just like all the other nights. Just him and Cas and no one else. Naked, he waited for Cas to join him when Cas, stripped down to his boxers, turned to look at him.

"What are you staring at Mister?" he asked, hands on his hips. "I still have to shower. And if you think you're going to bed with an onion breath, you're wrong."

Dean groaned and took the towel Cas handed him, wrapped it around his waist and wheeled towards the bathroom. Cas joined him a few minutes later, just as he finished rinsing his mouth, carrying his towel and a suspicious looking packet.

"What's that?" he asked as Cas filled the tub and added a fistful of the packet's contents into it.

"Bath salts," Cas replied, not looking up and continuing to add another fistful of 'bath salts' to the water.

"Bath salts?" Dean asked disbelievingly. "Are we also gonna paint each other's toenails and braid each other's hair, princess Cassandra?" And Cas gave him the  _look…_  the one that meant "shut up  _or_   _else_ "… and told him to "just get in". Dean pursed his lips and angrily glared back at Cas with all he had.

But Cas – the bastard was immune to Dean's glares. "You haven't seen a true death glare unless you've come on Lucifer Novak's bad side. He could actually make grown men pee their pants with just a look," he had said proudly the first time Dean tried to stare him down – just smiled and reached for his toothbrush.

So Dean reluctantly removed his towel and entered the water with as much eagerness as a cat having a bath day. He sat in the warm water, glaring at the tiles in front of him. But the salts were magic… he could feel the tension seep out of him. Against his wishes, he found himself relaxing in the tub, letting the salts work their magic, going lower and lower till he was flat in the tub, only his chest and head above it.

"What the hell is that?" he muttered, reaching for the packet Cas had dropped beside the tub. "Stress-Relieving Bathing Salts," he read. "Lavender, Petitgrain and Ylang Ylang. Where the heck did you get this?"

"Ms. Havelock," Cas mumbled around his toothbrush, spitting out the foam. "The place where Carmen buys her shampoos and stuff. I went there to get a new shampoo last week."

"New shampoo?" Dean muttered. Sure enough the bottle was almost full. The last time he'd noticed it was almost empty. "Oh."

"Well… she has these herbs and oils… and she said these would be good for you. Relieves stress and relaxes…" he looked at Dean who was almost nodding off in the hot tub. He smiled and gently shook him. "You're not gonna sleep here, are you?"

"What? No?" Dean replied sitting up. "You go ahead. I'll just be a minute…" he slipped back down, definitely enjoying this girly bath thingy. "Me likey," he muttered lazily.

Cas smiled, a part of his plan already a success.  _Dean was completely relaxed._  But he still had to shower. "Dean," he woke him up again. "Wake up, move over. I'm coming in."

Dean reluctantly sat up again, and grumbled when Cas straddled him and pulled him in a kiss. "Shh…" Cas muttered against his lips, reaching forward and slowly moving against him, to rhythm of the waltz he had had playing in their room, till Dean was fully awake and aroused, just like him. "About time," he murmured pulling Dean close, so their dicks lay side by side, cradling in each other's nooks. He kissed Dean again and reached for the shampoo, squirting some on his hand and some on Dean's with a practiced ease.

They had shared showers before, but this one was different. He wet his hand and took his time shampooing Dean, then leaned forward and let Dean do the same for him. He kissed Dean again, head full of shampoo and reached for the shower washing Dean first before letting him wash him. He drained the tub as Dean reached for the bath gel, pouring some onto his palm and washing Cas first.

Dean took his time, slowly caressing each part of his fiancé's body, just the way he loved… starting with his neck and shoulders, gently going down his torso. He took special care with the nipples… unlike most men, Cas had very sensitive nipples… and Cas shivered slightly, then his stomach and lower, meticulously washing his cock and balls, taking his own sweet time jerking him off, until Cas placed a hand on his chest with "not yet." He nodded and pressed a palm to the base to ease him. Cas turned around and he washed his back, rubbing circles into the shoulder blades, there was a single scar that ran from his right shoulder to just below his ribs – "from the day I had my first kill," Cas had told him the first time – he rubbed a finger into it, going lower and lower, until Cas was standing on all fours, his ass facing Dean. Dean reached forward and bit him lightly on the left cheek, washing each cheek with care, before slipping a soapy finger inside. Cas shuddered and mumbled "Dean…"

Dean grinned, the sight of Cas uncoiling over his fingers doing wonders for him. He continued moving the finger around, his second hand at his own erection… going in and out...up and down… picking up the rhythm with each stroke, thinking about adding a second finger, when Cas suddenly pulled away and turned around to face him, a wild look on his face… the look he had seen  _that_  night… pressing their bodies flush together, their extremely hard cocks rubbing against each other. He took both of them in his hand and frantically started jerking them off.

When Dean tensed a little and muttered, "Cas…?" He whispered, "Not tonight, Major. Please, I need this… please, Major… look at me… I got, Major… I love you…" until his voice lost the rhythm, as did his hand, but he kept talking… making sure Dean stayed with him "Look at me, Major… I got you… I love you" over and over and Dean sat back, letting Cas take care of him… knowing Cas would never let anything hurt him and wondering what he had done to deserve a man like him, until he too lost all his coherent thought, concentrating solely on Cas' voice whispering his name like a prayer. He started moving in sync with Cas, his name unconsciously escaping his lips, until Cas pulled him in a wild kiss and they both came with each others' names on their joint breaths.

Cas fell against him, and stayed there till his breath and thoughts came back. He looked up at Dean, who was recovering himself, a shameful look on his face and said, "I'm sorry, Major. I'm so sorry. I tried to control myself… I should've…" but Dean shut him up with a kiss.

"Let's not apologize, babe," he said smiling, "I couldn't have asked for a better first time. You are so beautiful… so so beautiful…" he brushed a lock of dark brown hair away from the gorgeous blue eyes and kissed him again, "and I'm so lucky to have you." Cas smiled shyly and reached for the shower.

-x-x-x-

When they were both clean, Cas a little more impatient than Dean because he didn't want to spend the rest of the night in the tub, Cas stood up and carried Dean into their room, saying, "It's the proper thing to do. Throughout history, men have been carrying away their virgins."

"Your face is a virgin," Dean snapped, blush creeping up his throat.  _Dean Winchester was anything_ but _a virgin._

"Na… my face is  _celibate_ ," Cas pointed out, not a bit fazed. "It  _has_  been fucked, just not in a long time." And the blush grew even deeper.

As Cas sat Dean on the bed, covered in dried rose petals, and hurried over to the dresser, Dean took the time to look around. The room had been decorated like a goddamn honeymoon suite. Apart from the rose-bed, he realized the light was coming from the pink colored candles placed throughout the room. He picked one up and smelled it… it was scented, just like he suspected. "It's rose," Cas said turning around, triumphantly holding up a small wooden box and a bottle of lube. "The incense is musk."

Dean sniffed and sure enough, the smell he had mistaken as Cas' new aftershave was lingering in the air. "Where did you get this stuff?" he asked incredulously.

"Told you. Ms. Havelock," Cas replied coming to sit beside him. "She's a Wiccan. She has those healing herbs and oils and stuff… mostly just soaps and cosmetics… but she also has stuff for special occasions. And I may have… uh… I may have told her I was looking for something special for my wedding night."

Cas bit his lip, looking so like a teenager on his first "third date" that Dean couldn't help but laugh. "So all this is for the wedding night?" he asked.

"Pink candles are apparently for true love, as are the roses. Musk is for passion… Stop leering at me like that!" Dean winked at him, and stopped "leering". "And…" Cas said, opening the box. It held an assortment of small glass bottles and a few condoms, "… the same massage oil as the salts. Plus she threw in free condoms, pre-lubed with some "magic aphrodisiac" Apricot gel."

"Magic aphrodisiac gel?" Dean asked cocking an eyebrow, but Cas only shrugged. "Wouldn't hurt," he replied nonchalantly. "Sadly she didn't have any extra lube. Lie down."

Dean fell down on his back and moved back till he was properly aligned in the middle of the bed. Cas straddled his hips, pouring some oil onto his palms, rubbing them together. He brought one closer to Dean's face, it had a really nice smell, before starting to massage his collar bones.

He moved slowly, his hand and hips moving in rhythm with the slow waltz playing… he had been using it as meditation music since his days in the army, now he used it to calm Dean down during the therapy sessions… rubbing circles in his collar bones, over the balls of his shoulders, under his arms, kneading each arm with excess care till he could feel each knot loosening and Dean relaxing under him. He concentrated on his fingers… he loved Dean's fingers… taking special care with the one that was now marked by his ring… he moved lower on the stomach, bending down to gently nuzzle at his belly button, before moving down further to settle on his knees.

His hands moved towards Dean's cock and he looked up to see Dean looking at him, holding his gaze. This was always the tricky part. He always made sure Dean looked at him when he touched him, lest he fly in another panic attack. And right now he had to be extra careful, since he had been careless enough to abandon his own rule of being rough with him. Even though Dean had said he was fine, he had felt Dean tense, but he was too forgone to care. He didn't want to make the same mistake again. "I love you," he whispered as Dean smiled at him, then touched him gently, his fingers rubbing the pre-cum into the head then slipping the foreskin down, moving in the same slow rhythm as the music, before bringing up his second hand to massage the balls. He looked up again, to see Dean nodding off and patted on his stomach to get his attention. "Wake up." Dean looked at him with half-lidded eyes and smiled serenely.

He smiled back, bending down to kiss at the base of his now erect cock, and moved further down, to his feet. Just because Dean couldn't use his legs didn't mean he didn't have them and Cas loved every part of his body in equal measure… even though he was a bit partial to that godawful cocky grin. He massaged the feet, working on the arches and balls, kissing them softly, gently suckling on his toes… because he could… or maybe because Dean's feet had given him a slight foot fetish. Dean grinned at him, the cocky grin he loved so much, and he crawled up his body to reward him with a kiss.

He told Dean to roll over, straddling his ass and working on loosening the knots in his shoulders. Dean relaxed, almost nodding off again, and he wriggled his hips just a little to wake him up. Dean moved under him. "Cas, man, you're killing me. Can we just get on with it?"

"You kept teasing me in the shower, I'm just returning the favour," he replied, keeping his voice nonchalant with great effort, taking his time with his fiancé's back, going down to his ass, rubbing a finger into the thick white scar that ran all the way from the base of his spine to the top of his crack.

"It's the one that changed everything," Dean had once told him. He didn't elaborate and Cas didn't need him to. He had seen the injuries first hand and was smart enough to figure out what might have happened. He didn't want Dean reliving those memories. He wanted to replace them with his own happy ones.

He smiled to himself, massaging each cheek with care. Now Dean was moving against the bed, making small grunting noises, that Cas knew meant he was ready. He fell down beside Dean, pulling him close, kissing him softly, gently sucking on his bottom lip, when Dean suddenly rolled over him and trapped him with "you slut."

Then Dean took to torturing him, slowly sucking on his earlobe, nuzzling at his neck and going lower and lower until he reached the sensitive nipples. Dean swiped a tongue across them, and he gasped, arching his hips into Dean's, and moving against him to the tune of the music. "Dean…" he muttered. "Please…" but Dean just smiled, "Say it."

"I want you, Dean," he pleaded softly. "I want you in me." Dean grinned and rolled aside to sit up. Cas breathed a sigh of relief and reached for the lube and the condom. He handed the bottle to Dean who poured a few drops on his fingers, rubbing them together. Cas turned away from him, baring his ass for his fiancé and said "two fingers." Dean nodded and inserted them inside.

Cas hissed at the first contact, and pushed back against the intrusion, but Dean kept prodding gently until they were both moving in sync, with each other, and with soft violin strains floating in the air. Then Dean added a third finger and crooked them a little to find his prostrate and Cas lost all the ability to think. "Dean… Dean…" he kept saying his fiancé's name over and over, until Dean pulled out the fingers with "I think you're ready, babe." He lamented the loss of contact and turned around to face his Major.

Dean was looking at him with serene expression, pupils dilated to maximum, black almost overtaking the green. He smiled and pulled him in another slow long kiss, straddling him once again. "Don't you dare close your eyes, Major," he asserted, holding his Major's gaze with his own. He reached for the lube, pouring a generous amount on his palms and coating Dean's cock, before reaching out his left hand for Dean's right, intertwining their fingers together so their rings lay together, just like they had in their soft cottony bed. Then his second hand was gripping Dean's erection, his pupils blown wide, as he lowered himself onto Dean.

He was already halfway through, when he remembered the condom.  _He had forgotten about it._  He started getting back up, but Dean gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Babe, what's wrong?" he gasped. "The condom," Cas rasped, pointing to the tell-tale packet lying beside Dean.

But Dean looked at him and smiled, the same smile he had when Cas had seen him in the medical camp, the one that had made him fall in love with an unknown dying soldier. "I'm clean," he said. "And I trust you."

Cas exhaled, trying to hold back his tears. He knew Dean trusted him… trusted him to take care of him… but this was a different kind of trust. The trust he had demanded in the cage that day. The trust in his angel to keep him safe when he was at his most vulnerable. He nodded softly and continued downwards, till he was completely sitting down in Dean's lap. Dean pulled their ringed hands back, till they were pressed against his heart, his left hand coming to rest on Cas' waist, as Cas' right hand found purchase on his left shoulder, unconsciously taking on a dancing stance.

Then Cas started moving. His hips gyrating to the sound of the waltz, and Dean joined him, in a dance of their own… slow, meandering, silent but in sync with each other. As the tempo picked up, so did they... moving together… one leading, the other following… not caring who was doing what… just like they did in everything else.

The waltz ended, Cas belatedly noted that it signaled almost an hour and a half had passed, and  **Elvis**  started crooning  _Love_   _Me_   _Tender._ He slowed his movements, gently pushing at Dean with his hips, then reaching forward to kiss his neck. He swiped his tongue at the bead of sweat flowing down the tan neck, glistening in the light of the dying candles. Dean shivered under him and he sucked at his pulse point, marking Dean with a mark of his own.  _His Major… his and his alone._  "Mine," he whispered against the bruise, kissing it gently.

"Cas…" Dean muttered, his voice barely audible. "I'm gonna…" and Cas shushed him with a soft kiss. Elvis faded into silence and some guy started singing,

" _You're in my arms, and all the world is gone… The music playing on, for only two… So close, together…_   _And_   _when I'm with you, so close to feeling alive…"_

Cas started laughing at the obvious symbolism, but gasped when Dean released his waist and took hold him, stroking him to the music. His breath caught in his lungs as he gasped, "Major… I'm gonna… gonna…" And Dean was speaking, "Come for me, babe. Come for me. I got you, my angel… I love you," and Cas came hard, arching back and clamping down on Dean's cock, gripping him tightly around the left arm, leaving behind a deep red hand print. Then Dean was gasping his name, shuddering under him, filling him up. They continued "dancing" through their orgasms, until Dean collapsed back on the bed, pulling Cas down with him, and stayed that way until the room stopped spinning and they both could breath properly.

He pulled back a little, so Dean was slipped out of him, then snuggled into the strong arms, nuzzling the sweaty scented skin, kissing on the mark that had started to form at the base his collar bone. They breathed silently, listening to,

" _Now that I've tried to, talk to you and make you understand…_  
All you have to do is, close your eyes and  _just reach out your hands…_  
And touch me… Hold me close, don't ever let me go…

 _More than words… Is all I ever needed you to show…  
Then you wouldn't have to say…That you love me…_   _'Cause I'd already know…"_

He looked at Dean who was nodding off, snuggled in closer, wincing at the pleasant pain in his back, and kissed his cheek, whispering, "I love you, Major" as the last of the candles flickered out, plunging the room in complete darkness.

"I love you too, babe," Dean whispered against his hair, pulling him closer. "Now go to sleep."

Cas sighed happily, closing his eyes and drifted off into a blissful sleep, listening to two men serenading each other with more than just words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N 2:** I have always been fascinated by the idea that sex is just a very intimate form of dancing. You can dance with anybody, but it's perfect when you're with the right partner. This chapter is dedicated to all the hopeless romantics waiting for their right partners.


	9. Chapter 9

**Part 7 A**

Cas was nervous. Well, nervous would be an understatement.  _He was freaking out._  This was the first time he was meeting Dean's family, in person, plus there was the wedding and the trip and…  _and he was going crazy._

He wished Dean was here, but Dean had said that Cas' nerves were getting on  _his_  nerves. Besides they needed someone sensible at the garage. He glanced at the clock, 3.30 PM. The flight landed at 4.30.

He straightened the couch cushions. They didn't look right, so he shifted them around. They still didn't look right, so he got out new cushion covers and changed them. He glanced at the clock again and realized that only 20 minutes had passed.

He walked towards the bedrooms. He had cleaned Sam's old room for Adam and his new girlfriend, and the master bedroom for Sam and Jess. He checked them again, making sure they each had fresh bedsheets and clean blankets, which he knew they did because he had changed them yesterday. He had also brought down Dean's old baby cot from the attic and set it up for Dee. There were clean towels in the bathrooms, along with fresh toiletries and extra toothbrushes in case they were needed. Satisfied that all was to his liking, he went to the kitchen to check on the dinner.

Dean had told him that a simple pot roast would do. He also had hamburgers and sausages, just in case, and fresh cut steak. He wondered if he should have made something else. He really wanted them to like him. The oven timer beeped and he rushed to get the brownies out, gently placing them on the wire rack to cool, and put a fresh batch in, this one without nuts for Jess. He had given up trying to bake pies a while back, but brownies were his strong suit. Even Ellen said so.

He went to the fridge to get a beer and realized that he had forgotten iced tea for the ladies. He quickly made a pitcher, then squeezed a few oranges for Dee. He finished his beer, and because he had nothing better to do, went for a shower.

By the time he came back, the brownies were already done, so he removed the cool ones from the wire rack and began replacing them with the hot ones.

That's when the phone rang, startling him, and in his hurry, he knocked the tray down. He listened in horror as Sam's voice filled the house saying they had almost cleared the check out and it would take another 30 or so minutes for the drive home. And that's when he lost it.

-x-x-x-

"Cas?"

Cas looked up from the floor to see his fiancé was sitting in the kitchen doorway, a worried expression on his face. "What?" he asked irritatedly.

"Babe, you alright?" Dean asked wheeling towards him, but stopping a little short of the mess. "What happened?"

"Nothing. I'm a clumsy oaf who can't do anything right. I knocked down the whole plate," he replied wiping his dried tears and starting to clean it up. He wondered if he had time to make another batch.

"That's enough," Dean broke into his thoughts. "Stop overworking yourself," he added, slipping down beside him and helping him salvage the goods. "We have enough to last a while. You have been at it for almost a week."

Dean climbed back into his chair, as Cas kept the desert out of his reach and slumped against the counter. "What if they hate me?" he asked dejectedly.

Dean shook his head and wheeled towards him. "C'mere," he said pulling at Cas' arm and manhandling him till he was sitting in Dean's lap. He circled his arms around his angel and pulled him close. He could feel Cas relaxing against him. "They've known you for five months. They all love you. Hell, even Claire and she has barely known us for a week."

"But this is different. What if… what if they don't like me in person? What if they think I'm a slob… or that I snore too much… or I'm too weird… or…something…" his faded away and he started concentrating on the large warm hands, massaging his back.

"Calm down," Dean muttered in his ear. "You are not a slob. You are a neat freak and you've been working nonstop for the past two days. You don't snore and Sam is no position to say anything because he not only snores, he's also gassy. I'm sure you'll survive," Dean whispered in his ear, as his hands continued to trail downwards, finally slipping under the sweats. Cas grunted but did not protest. He continued massaging pleased with rapidly hardening results. Cas wriggled in his lap and jerked his hips in Dean's hands. "Oh, I love it when you do that," he added kissing his ear.

Cas smiled, bringing a hand down to stop Dean's. "As much I love you taking me in the kitchen, there's open food here. And I'm not having your family eat my stray spunk for desert," he said, leaning back a little and pecking him on the cheek.

Dean laughed and removed his hands. "Fine. I'm going to shower. You're welcome to join me. But if you take longer than 5 minutes, you can forget about it."

Cas stood up and straightened his pants. He bent down, hands on his fiancé's shoulders, his thumb massaging into the collar bone, a mischievous glint in his eye, and asked, "Is that a challenge?"

"Not unless you  _want_  to greet them with a limp," Dean deadpanned and the blush that crept over Cas' face was totally worth losing sleep over.

"5 minutes," Cas murmured, taking out a broom and sweeping the crumbs away. Dean turned around and wheeled back to their room, happy that he had finally managed to slow  _Castielosaurus_ down.

-x-x-x-

"They're here," Cas said, looking out the window and giving his hair the last cursory wipe. It looked dry enough. He checked himself in the mirror and hurried out to open the door before they could ring the bell.

The first thing that crossed his mind when he came first to face with Sam Winchester was "tall". The guy was  _tall_. As in 6-and-a-half feet with a wide body, long limbs, longish hair... Hell, even his sideburns were huge. No wonder Dean called him "Sasquatch". He looked like the kind of guy who could literally crush you with his bare hands. But his face was anything but… his eyes sparkled with a rare trustfulness, the kind that would make even the most untrusting person entrust him with their new born babies, and a smile that confirmed it. When he reached out and pulled him in an awkward hug, Cas had no option but to comply.

"Hey Sammy," Dean called behind him. Sam released Cas and ran towards his brother. He yanked Dean to his feet and pulled him in a crushing bear hug. When he finally released Dean and let him drop back into his wheelchair, Cas could tell Dean was breathless, but his grin more than made up for it.

Just then Cas felt a tug on his leg. He looked down to see Dee staring up at him with a wondrous expression. He smiled and picked her up and she gave him her "Uncle Cas" as a peace offering. He laughed and ushered everyone inside.

Introductions were made. Jessica was tired and Cas couldn't begrudge her. He sent her off to freshen up and offered the bath salts for later. She winked at him, and he knew he had a made a friend for life. Adam and Claire were cordial, but after everyone had settled Adam cornered him in the kitchen and proclaimed that he had never seen his dad happier. He also apologized for his earlier behavior, but Cas dismissed it saying he wasn't exactly wrong to be skeptical.

Adam left and Cas started on dinner, sensing that everyone must be tired and would want to retire for the night as soon as possible. Everything was already done, so he just put the roast in to reheat, set the timer and started working on his salad, reveling in the little peace, possibly for the last time, for the next two weeks.

-x-x-x-

"Hey Cas?"

Cas looked to see Claire standing behind him, clutching something in her hand. "Yeah?"

"Who's this?" she asked showing him a framed photograph.

It was his graduation picture – him in his graduation gown, Nick in his new suit, arms around each other's waists, grinning for the camera. The photo now occupied a place of honour on the Winchester mantle. "That's my brother, Nick," he replied turning back to setting the table. "Can you call everyone for dinner?"

"Oh, okay," Claire replied turning around and walking back out.

The dinner passed without an incident. That is, unless Dean and Dee sporting identical sulking faces over being fed "rabbit food", or Sam's retort "Karma's a bitch, bitch" which earned him a solid kick under the table, could be called an incident. Cas found himself relaxing and joining in the inside jokes, as if he was one of them. Maybe he was. He really loved having a full table for dinner. He thought about hosting more family dinners in the future.

After dinner, Jess excused herself with the bath salts and one of the Vonneguts from Dean's collection, and Adam took Dee for a walk, giving Dean and Sam some alone time to catch up. On the way to the kitchen, Cas found them leaning close to each other and talking and laughing nonstop, like gossiping housewives. He smiled to himself and picked up a beer. As an afterthought, he filled a glass with iced tea and walked out.

"You got something on your mind?" he asked sitting down next to Claire on the patio swing he had installed a few weeks back, and handing her the glass. She had been quiet the whole dinner and he guessed she was as nervous to meet Adam's family as him.

"Do you remember Anna?" she asked instead.

"Anna?" he asked confused. He knew quite a few 'Anna's, some of them even biblically when he was very down on his luck.

"Anna Milton from Pontiac?" she asked again.

Cas started. Of course he remembered Anna Milton, Rev. Milton's spacy little daughter. She was about a year older than him and probably his only friend.  _She_  was the one who had started the whole fallen angel thing. "How do you…?" Then he remembered. Claire Milton. Maybe they were related. "How did you guess?" he rephrased his question.

"That guy in the photo. Your brother. That's Lucifer Novak, isn't it?"

 _Oh,_  he thought.  _No one could really escape their past._  But for it to find him here, like this… "Yeah," he replied quietly. "But he wasn't like people said he was. He was a really good person…" he added quickly, jumping to his brother's defence.

"Oh, I know," she cut in. "I met him, once, when I was about 13. But Anna talked about him a lot… the fallen angel, the gentle Devil… especially during later stages."

"Later…?" Cas asked confused.

"She was diagnosed with schizophrenia," Claire replied sadly. "It kept getting worse… until all she could talk about was the fallen angels and how she overheard them over the radio."

Cas remembered that. It was cute when they were young. He had always thought she was a bit delusional, never mentally ill. "Was diagnosed? You mean she's…?"

"Yeah," she interjected. "Three years ago, she escaped her locked ward, and took a scalpel to her throat. Claimed it was the only way to stop the Apocalypse."

"Oh… I'm sorry," he said. He had loved Anna like his own sister. Rev. Milton was a good man. He had taken great care of them, especially Claire… Suddenly, something twisted in his stomach.  _How long was it?_  More than 20 years… but he remembered Claire having blonde hair and blue eyes. Like the girl beside him.

"Why are you telling me all this?" he asked suspiciously, increasing the distance between them.

Claire sighed. "I was adopted by Rev. Milton and his family after my parents died. They said my brother left me…"

"No!" he cut in. "No… no…NO!" He stood up so quickly, he knocked down the half-empty beer bottle beside him. It crashed to the floor. "It can't be. Claire went missing, you hear me. Nicky had nothing to do with it."

"Jimmy, please… He said it was to keep me safe... He said it was the only way…"

"Shut up," he screamed, balling his fists until his knuckles turned.  _If this girl kept talking, he would go against everything he believed in and hit her._  "Nicky would never do that. He had sworn to keep us safe. He would've never let her go. He would have never separated his family." He vaguely heard footsteps coming to the door. "He would've told me. My brother was not a liar.  _You_  are a liar." With he turned and ran back inside, almost colliding with Sam on the way. Sam reached out to steady him, but he pushed him away and ran to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Outside, everyone gathered around the quietly sobbing girl. Dean was the first one to break the silence. "How long have you known?" he simply asked. They all turned to look at him, even Adam who had just walked in with Dee. "What? Her name's Claire. She's about the same age as his sister would've been. Plus you all saw..." he waved his arms around "That."

"I honestly didn't know," she replied quietly. "I mean… I knew Lucifer was my brother and we had a third brother named Jimmy. But when Cas… Jimmy… he said it was his brother in the picture…" her voice trailed away, as she buried her face in her hands.

Dean looked at Sam who nodded and took Dee and Jess, who was still dripping water, back to their room. Adam sat on the swing comforting his girlfriend. Dean sighed and rolled towards his room.

"Cas, babe, it's me," he called softly. He could hear whimpering inside. He tried the doorhandle and thankfully, it was unlocked. He went in and locked the door behind him.

The sight was heartbreaking. Cas was curled into a fetal position, his whole body shaking with the sobs that raked through him. Dean took a deep breath and wheeled towards the bed and climbed in behind Cas, pulling him flush against his chest, spooning their bodies together. Cas had done this for him more than once, but to see their roles reversed like this…

"Shh, babe," he whispered, gently rubbing his stomach. "Hush… I'm here. I got you… I love you…" he could feel Cas relax and straighten against him.

He turned Cas around till they were facing each other, and Cas promptly buried his face in Dean's shoulder, mumbling, "My brother was not liar. He would've told me… he would've told me… we were a team" over and over.

And for once, Dean was powerless to do anything. He could just hold his angel close till he stopped shaking and fell asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: **Because the Devil also needs an Advocate :)****

**Part 7 B**

_ Pontiac, Illinois: 22 years ago _

Jimmy stood outside the doorway, listening to the conversation inside. Rev. Milton, Mr. Brady and Ms. Maria and Peter were talking in quiet voices.

"I'm sorry Pastor," Maria spoke up. "I know how you feel about separating them, but sibling placements are hard to find. Especially since there is 3 of them. The girl is very young, she can be easily adopted."

"You saw how protective Nicholas is of his siblings," Reverend spoke up. He had calm soothing voice that resonated with a quiet strength, just like everything else about him. "It would be ill wise to separate them."

"Protective, my ass," Brady spat. "The kid is a fucking lunatic. He attacked my son when he tried to play with the girl. I don't want them in this house anymore."

Peter looked between angry Brady and Reverend. "We understand that sir. We said we would have them out of here in a few weeks, but as Maria explained sibling placements are hard…"

"Yeah... yeah… You Government people. I don't fucking care. I foster orphans… not lunatics. I don't want them crazies here anymore. The girl can stay, but the boys need to go. I'm not having my family in danger because some smartass can't keep his temper in check."

Maria looked hopefully at the Reverend. "I know this is on a short notice and against protocol, but if you could keep them with you for a few days… only until we find some other family for them."

Reverend seemed genuinely distressed. "I wish I could," he said quietly. "But we are leaving tomorrow. It's my daughter…"

Jimmy started to say something, when someone grabbed him from behind and pulled him away from the door, with "What are you doing here?"

He looked at his big brother standing behind him with an angry expression. "Mr. Brady called Ms. Maria and Peter. They are talking about moving us again," he conveyed.

Nick nodded and stepped back. "Go upstairs and start on your homework. I'll be up in a minute."

"But Nicky…" he protested, but Nick titled his head and stared at him. Jimmy cowered, he hated when his brother looked at him like that, and ran up to their room. He saw Claire sitting on the floor playing with some colourful rags Mrs. Brady had been kind enough to give her. Nicky had once said that they were lucky she was a quiet baby and didn't fuss a lot. He crawled towards her and pulled at the rag she was holding. Her bottom lip quivered but she didn't cry.

He felt bad. "Sho...rry," he muttered, picking another one from the floor and twirling it in front of her. "Here, you want this?"

Claire cooed and tried to grab at the new toy, letting the older one fall to the floor. He laughed and waved both the rags before her. She dropped her hands and smiled at him.

"Aww… she's a cute baby, isn't she?" someone said behind him. He looked at Tom standing over them. He twisted around and cradled his sister close to him, moving away from the intruder.

"Go away, Tommy," he said, staring at the larger boy. Nicky had always told him that he should never let anyone see him afraid.  _You have to keep your eyes open and stare into their souls, show them what fear looks like._

"Oh… what're you gonna do big boy?" Tom asked smiling viciously. "Call your brother? And what will happen to you and your precious little sister when he's not here."

"Nicky will never let anything happen to us," Jimmy replied with a definite conviction.

" _Nicky_  won't be around to protect you  _all_  the time," Tom said moving in closer and pulling at the little girl in his arms.

Jimmy fought to maintain his hold, but his bully was too strong. He felt his grip slipping. "No… no… let her go," he said, but Tom slapped hard across his face. He reeled backwards and found his arms empty. "No… give her back," he said as Claire started sobbing and scrambling to go back into the protective hold.

"Take her if you can," Tom mocked holding the baby above his head. "Or maybe I'll just drop her on your head," he said slightly loosening his grip as the little girl flailed.

"I said give her back," Jimmy stated with as much confidence he could muster.

Tom mocked him again, when another voice cut through the room, "You heard my brother. Give Her Back." Tom turned around. The blonde figure standing in the doorway was a head shorter than him and way thinner. But his face was contorted in fury, his fists were balled at his sides and his normally blue irises had dilated enough that they looked dark black. Tom faltered and lowered the baby.

Jimmy reached up and yanked his sister away and hurried back into the corner, closing her eyes and ears. He watched his brother walk up to the bully and warn him. "Leave 'em alone, Tommy," Nick said with a calm voice. "You got no right being here. This is our room."

"But this is my house. And you and your fucking brother are just beggars my parents have taken in," Tom smirked, remembering that he was bigger than the boy confronting him. "And I don't want you and that pussy of yours around. The baby however…" he licked his lips lecherously, "Now, that's gonna be one fine piece of a—"

A hard fist connected with the side of his nose before he could complete the sentence. The large bully jerked back a step or two, hand to his nose and saw blood on his palm. He sneered, as if he was waiting for it. Jimmy watched the guy jump on his brother pounding him to the ground. His brother fought back with all he had, but the other guy had sheer size on him. By the time Tommy was done with him, Nick was lying on the floor, curled up in the fetal position, whimpering in pain.

Jimmy saw Tom walk out the door, set his baby sister on the ground and hurried over to his brother, when he heard a loud shout followed by, "That's it. I'm gonna teach that snot-nosed bastard how to behave in my house. Tom, get the radio."

_No… not the radio. Not the radio_ , he thought. He shook his brother harder. "Nicky… Nicky… get up. He's getting the radio. Nicky please… the radio…"

Nick fluttered his eyes open at the desperate sound of his brother. "Jimmy…?" he asked, his voice weak and pained.

"He's getting the radio. Nicky, I'm scared…" he pleaded.

Nick reached up and pulled him down in a quick hug. "Don't worry. I'm here. Get under the bed," he said calmly, his face a stone mask. "NOW!"

Jim nodded and ran back to grab his sister and pull her under the bed with him. Mr. Brady never hit anything that wasn't within his immediate reach. He covered his sister's body with his own, buried her face into his chest and closed her ears with his palms. From his vantage point, he could see Mr. Brady's boots and buckle of the belt he was wielding like a weapon. Tom came in behind him and tuned into a Rock station and cranked up the radio to full volume. Jim watched as Mr. Brady started belting Nicky, his screams drowned out by the loud drums and guitars.  _Noise… noise… lots of noise._

"They think no one can hear the screams," Anna had once said. "But I hear everything," she pointed to the small radio sitting on her night stand. "I'm a fallen angel. I can overhear angels talking," she added turning her radio on, and humming along with it. "They leave secret messages for me."

"You are not an angel," Jimmy had replied, amused. "There's no such things."

"That's because you are dumb," Anna had said, smacking him lightly on the head. "I was an angel, just like your brother, Lucifer."

"My brother's name is Nick," he had replied, jumping to his brother's defence. "He's not the devil. He's a good guy."

Anna  _pshed_. "Lucifer is not the devil. He was God's most beautiful angel until the circumstances forced him to rebel and he was unfairly cast away."

_Devil was an angel?_  He didn't know that.  _Maybe he could ask Pastor_   _Milton about it sometime._  But he had forgotten about it and now they were moving away.

He brought himself back to the present when Mr. Brady hollered that none of them was to be given any food and slammed the door on his way out. Tom waited until his father was out of ear shot, before placing a vicious kick in Nick's stomach. Nick cried out in pain. He laughed, turned off the radio and walked out carrying the torture device with him.

Jimmy pulled out from under the bed. He gently placed his sister on Nicky's bed and shushed her down. Then he ran to his brother. "Nicky…?" he asked. Nicky's face and palms had a few cuts, but he knew there would be no marks on his body.  _Just hurting… lots of hurting._

"Get back, Jimmy," his brother ordered weakly.

Jimmy shook his head. He couldn't leave his brother like this. He ran to his duffel and took out a small plastic bag. It held a small ball of cotton, a bottle of iodine and a few bandages. He had bought them from the money that Nicky had given him to buy stationary supplies for school. Nicky had told him to buy candy with the left over money. He bought medical supplies instead.

He ran back to his brother, who was almost passed out with pain. He gently placed his brother's head in his lap and started cleaning the dried blood away, then carefully placed the bandages over the cuts, like he had seen Nurse Esther do. He had wanted to buy fancy bandages like they had at school, but they cost more. So he bought the plain ones.

The first time, he had done this Tom had accused him of stealing… but he swore Rev. Milton had given him the stuff. Mr. Brady allowed it only because they didn't want Ms. Maria and Peter turning up and finding the bruises. He said it was bad for business. Jimmy had no idea what that meant, until Anna told him that Government paid Mr. Brady to take care of them.

He stood up and used all his strength to move his elder brother. By the time Nick was lying at the foot of the bed, his arms were on aching like someone had put them through a meat grinder. He dragged a pillow and a blanket from the bed, placed the pillow under his brother's head and covered him. Then he dragged another pillow and blanket from his own bed and set them beside his brother. Then he plucked his sleeping sister from the bed, set her between them, pulled the blanket over both of them and closed his eyes.

-x-x-x-

Nick woke up with a start at sound of someone sobbing quietly. He felt a weight on his chest. He lifted his hand and his fingers curled in his sister's soft blonde hair. He looked at her, sobbing quietly, unable to sleep due to hunger.

Jimmy was sleeping fitfully, but he was grown up, and he could handle going without food. Claire was a baby and needed her food. He moved Jimmy's hand away from his stomach. Jimmy hummed a protest, but did not wake up. He sat up, taking his sister with him. His stomach hurt… his everything hurt. He knew there would be no marks. Tom and Mr. Brady took special care to make sure they didn't leave any marks. They couldn't afford to have Social Services on their fat greedy asses.

He cradled his baby sister close and started rocking her. He didn't know any lullabies, but Pastor Milton's daughter heard a lot of nice songs with words. He had liked one in particular. He took a deep breath and started singing softly, taking care that Jimmy was not disturbed.

" _Come, stop your crying… it will be alright. Just take my hand… and hold it tight.  
I will protect you from… all around you... I will be here, don't you cry…_

_For one so small, you seem so strong… My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm…  
This bond between us can't broken… I will be here don't you cry…_

_And you'll be in my heart… Yes, you'll be in my heart… From this day on… now and forever more…"_

He didn't know the rest, so kept singing it over and over till he heard his sister's soft snores. By the time, he had stopped, he had made a decision. It was hard…  _it was very hard._  But it was the only way. He could take care of Jimmy, but Claire needed a family. And the only family they had known was gone.

And now the Miltons were moving away. He knew Reverend did not want to separate them, but Mrs. Milton really cared for Claire and Anna loved her like a little sister. If there was anyone he could trust with his most prized possession, it would be the Miltons. He stood up wincing and let Jimmy's hands brush softly over their sister for the last time, then tucked her in a pillow cover and climbed down the window.

-x-x-x-

The climb down was hard, made even more difficult by the fragile bundle in his arms. Plus there was a danger of someone catching him sneaking out. But he was in luck. Mrs. Brady had probably taken sleeping pills and Brady was most likely passed out in front of the TV. Tom and his hooligan buddies were out most nights vandalizing the neighbourhood.

He walked over to the Milton house, beside the church. The house was dark except for the light in Anna's room. He stood out for a second contemplating his final decision. Jimmy would hate him if he ever found out. But Pastor had covered for him before… he would no doubt do it again. He took a deep breath and gently placed his sleeping sister on the doorstep. He was about to ring the door bell, when something hit his shoulder.

He looked down to see a small crumpled ball of paper. He looked up in direction of the throw and saw Anna leaning out the window. She waved at him, pointed to the radio in her hand and then at the paper at his feet. He picked up the paper and straightened it. She had written, "I'll make sure she knows."

He smiled and waved back, knowing he had made the right decision. He bent down to kiss his sister for the last time, whispered, "I'll be back for you. I promise," and turned around and walked away. Behind him, he heard Anna yelling that angels had sent a new sister for her.

Next day, the Miltons moved away with their two daughters, Anna and Claire.


	11. Chapter 11

**Part 7.3**

Jimmy always woke up at the crack of dawn. Mr. Brady sent them to bed without food most nights, and he couldn't sleep on an empty stomach.

He stood up and looked at Nicky and Claire. Nicky was facing away from him, his arms stretched under the bed. Claire was nowhere to be seen. He chuckled to himself, it didn't really bother him. Nicky always insisted on sleeping with the lights on. And Claire hated it, so she always crawled under the bed, where it was dark… safe.

He snuck out of the room and into the bathroom. He showered using very little hot water. Nicky never used hot water. Mr. Brady didn't like it when they did. He had cried the first time he had to take a cold shower, but Nicky told him that in olden days the Indians just jumped in rivers and ponds to clean up. It made the bones strong… besides only little pussies like Tommy needed hot water to shower. Big boys never did. And he was a big boy, but not as big as Nicky. So he used only a little hot water. They used hot water for Claire because she was a baby and could get sick.

Then he snuck into the kitchen. He tried to be as quiet as he could when he filtered through the stale bread, fishing out the softest slices. Mrs. Brady was a kind woman but she was scared of her husband and son. She had told them that if they were caught taking food without permission, they would be in trouble. Which Nicky had explained meant they could take what they needed as long as they  _didn't_  get caught. But he insisted on taking only what Brady wouldn't miss, like old bread, because they threw it away, and milk, because it came in a closed box. He said not to bother with butter. Jim took the milk from the fridge and carefully poured only a sip, enough for Claire, and replaced the carton exactly as it was.

He carried the bread, milk and glass of water upstairs, promising himself, like he did every day, that when he grew up, his family would never have to eat stale food again. He would get freshest bread and lots of butter… maybe even peanut butter and jelly, because Anna said it was the best. And he would make softest pancakes for Claire, like mom did, and lots and lots of scrambled eggs for Nicky because he liked them. Maybe he would become a cooker, "no, chef," he corrected himself, like he saw on TV at the Miltons.

He set the plate on his bed and shook Nicky awake. "Wake up, Nicky. Time for breakfast," he said poking his brother lightly. Nick winced but his eyes remained closed. Jimmy let him be. He must be hurting still. He reached under the bed for Claire. His hands could not reach her. So he looked down. She wasn't there. He panicked a little, she never crawled far. But maybe she had found a new corner to hide. He looked under his bed, beneath the old dresser, anywhere else he could think of. There weren't that many places in their room for a 3 year old to hide.

He went outside and looked everywhere, calling out her name softly. She knew she should never leave the room without either of them around, but she was getting a little restless of late. Maybe she had walked outside and fell asleep somewhere. He searched upstairs –Brady's room was closed from inside but Tommy's was open. He looked inside it… even though he knew he could get into trouble, Claire was more important than anything, but she wasn't there. He checked the kitchen, living room, the bathroom. The main door was locked, so she couldn't have gone out.

He sat on the stairs, head in his hands, wondering how he could tell Nicky he had lost Claire – It was his job to keep her safe, when Nicky couldn't. They were a team, both of them – when he saw the main door open and Tommy sneak back in.

 _Tommy had gone out and Claire was missing._ It could only mean one thing. Tommy had taken Claire. He had taken her and done something to her. He wanted to know what Tommy had done to her. He stood up, straightened his shoulders and walked up to the bigger boy.

Tommy stopped in his tracks. "What do you want?" he hissed, clearly in a hurry to get up to his room.

"Where's she?" Jimmy asked with a rare bravado. "What have you done to her?"

"What are you talking about?" Tommy asked looking a little confused.

"My sister. Claire," Jimmy asked again, his voice steadier. "What did you do to her? Where is she? Tell me." He reached up and grabbed the larger boy's collar. He barely reached Tommy's chest, but his anger made him feel 10 feet tall.

Tommy laughed and shook him away. "Sold her. Even got money for it," he sneered. "What do you care?"

Jimmy felt his blood boil. He pushed hard at the larger boy's chest. "Don't talk about my sister like that," he cried, pushing once again with all his strength.

Tommy fell back a step and laughed. "Oh yeah? What're you gonna do big boy?" he taunted. "Hit me? C'mon sissy. Hit me. Show me what you got. M sure someone's fucking your whore of a sister right about now."

Rage coursed through Jimmy, filling his every pore. He couldn't think straight. He lunged at Tommy with all his strength. Tommy fell on his back, Jimmy on top of him. Something crashed to the floor. Jimmy started pounding into his face with all strength, surprise rendering the large boy temporarily incapacitated.

Tommy recovered quickly and bodily flung Jim away. Jimmy scrambled up, but Tommy was on him, punching and kicking. He started screaming for his big brother. He kept screaming until someone jerked Tommy away. He scrambled to his feet and saw his brother standing over his attacker.

"Don't you dare touch him," Nick snarled, kicking Tommy in the stomach. Tommy cried out in pain. Nick kicked him again. Tommy reached out and pulled Nick down with him. They grappled on the floor, Jimmy shouting behind them that Tommy had stolen Claire and sold her somewhere.

The ruckus woke Brady and he walked out eyes bloodshot and head pounding with hangover. He saw that lunatic bastard hitting his only son and the sissy goading him on. He had his belt out even before he reached them, and the first whip landed on both the boys. Tom yelped and scrambled to his feet, backing away from the whips. The second one landed on the bastard's stomach. The boy cried out in pain, a shrill voice that cut through his head, incensing him further. He hauled the boy to his feet and backhanded him across the face, hard.

Nick backed a few steps, his eyes landing on his younger brother. "Jimmy," Nick said, his voice as steady as he could keep it, "Upstairs, now" as a whip landed at his side. He flinched but didn't move.

"Nicky…"

"NOW!" he hollered. Even Brady flinched.

Jimmy ran upstairs, but Tommy caught up with him. "You wanna be a big boy, sissy?" he mocked, pulling him back but Jimmy bit his hand and kicked him in the knee. Then he was in the safety of his room, locking the door behind him, crying against it. He heard Nicky's screams from below, they hadn't even bothered with the radio. He sat for a long time, cowering at the noise… the screams died down, but he still could hear the whips.

 _They would kill him._   _If he didn't do something… they would kill him._  He couldn't lose Nicky like he had lost Claire. He started opening the door to go and find help, but if he went back they would catch him and he wouldn't be able to help Nicky.

He took a deep breath and went to the window. He was afraid of heights, they made him dizzy. But he had no choice. He closed his eyes and prayed to his mom to watch over him. He climbed out onto the thin ledge and scrambled towards the rusty pipeline that reached the ground. He didn't look as he made his way down, praying with all his heart, goading himself to put one hand below another, one foot below another, like he had seen Nicky do. He could hear Nicky's soft whimpers from inside and forced himself to shut out the noise. He jumped the last few steps and twisted his ankle, but he didn't stop to think about it.

He ran, as fast as his small legs could carry him, to the next house. An old lady lived there with her many cats. He pounded on the door with all his strength, screaming "Help" at the top of his voice. The old lady took a lot of time opening door… lot of precious time.

"What's wrong?" she asked grouchily, irritated at being woken mid-sleep.

"Help," he panted. "Help please. They'll kill him. They'll kill…" he couldn't complete the sentence, but the lady understood. She stepped back and told him to call the cops.

He told the operator what was going and she said she would send someone immediately. By the time he was finished, the lady was beside him giving them the address. He wanted to go back, but the lady kept him with her, saying it wasn't safe for him to go back without the cops.

The cops – an old black man and a woman – showed up 5 minutes later, and without further comment were running to Brady's house with him. They barged in without knocking and saw Brady and Tom standing over bleeding Nicky, writhing on the floor in pain. They put Mr. Brady in cuffs, but Tommy managed to escape through the back door. The woman officer caught up with him and cuffed him. They even cuffed Mrs. Brady, who was still high and spaced out. Then they waited with him until Ms. Maria and Peter showed up.

Nick was still unconscious when the orderlies carried him into the ambulance and took them both to the hospital. Peter said he would bring their stuff around later. After they made sure he wasn't hurt badly, Nicky needed stitches and a blood transfusion, he told them how Tommy had said he had sold their sister and all that happened to them at the Brady's.

Seconds later, Peter was on the phone. He came back and said that they were swearing that they hadn't touched the little girl, and that the boys were lying. But with everything else against them, no one was ready to believe it.

Ms. Maria then took him to the cafeteria and asked him to choose what he wanted to eat. He didn't. Not with Claire missing and Nicky lying up there like  _that_. But she reasoned that if he wanted to take care of his brother, he had to keep his strength, which meant he had to eat something. So he got toast… made of fresh bread. And butter… lots of butter. He even took some for Nicky for when he woke up.

Jimmy was at his brother's side when he woke up. Nick smiled weakly at him. "Finally found a way to get you to the hospital, didn't I?" he asked.

Jimmy had always wanted to visit a hospital, because he really liked how they took care of people there. Just like he took care of Nicky when he was hurt. He thought Nurse Esther had an interesting job. Sometimes he wanted to become a nurse when he grew up.

He smiled back weakly and scrambled into his brother's bed. Nick winced, but let his younger brother hug him. "I'm sorry, Nicky," he cried in his brother's neck. "I'm sorry I lost Claire. I couldn't take care of her. I'm sorry. It's my fault she's gone."

"It's not your fault," Nick replied quietly. "It's not your fault…" he repeated, steadying his voice. He couldn't tell Jimmy where she was, Jimmy would want to bring her back and he couldn't have that, but he could assure his brother she was safe. "It's not your fault, baby. She's safe, I promise. She's safe. She's with the people who love her and they'll take good care of her. I promise," he said, praying that Rev. Milton would love her as much as he loved his own daughter.

Jimmy cried till he passed out from exhaustion and slept holding his big brother… wanting to believe what Nicky said was true. He prayed it was…  _he prayed every day._

* * *

Cas blinked his eyes open and gently caressed the warm hand on his stomach. The man beside him breathed softly into his neck. He was always up at the crack of dawn, but his fiancé didn't like waking up alone, so he just kept lying beside him.

He hadn't been able to sleep last night. After the initial shock wore off, he thought about what Nick had done. He was angry at Nick… very angry. For 22 years, he had believed it was his fault Claire was gone. That he had failed his family somehow. He had carried this burden for 22 years and now, he learned that Nick knew all along. He could never forgive Nick for what he did.

He heard Dean mumble something in his sleep. He smiled to himself, and turned his head to press a kiss into the dirty blonde hair, wondering what he had done to deserve a man like his Major. When he broke down, Major didn't say a word, he just kept holding him till he stopped crying. Then he tried to talk sense into him.

"He wasn't wrong, you know," Dean had said, his voice gentle but firm.

Cas didn't say anything. He knew this tone of voice. It was his "I love you, but if you interrupt, I'll rip your tongue out" voice… the same tone Nicky used when scolding him. He wondered how he had managed to fall for the  _one_  guy in the world who was exactly like his brother. Maybe it was true, what they said.

"I know," he replied. "But he still should have told me."

Dean smiled. "I didn't know your brother," he said. "But I do know you. You have these ridiculous abandonment issues…" Cas smacked him lightly and Dean pulled his fiancé's hand to his mouth and brushed lips over his knuckles. "You would've never let her go. You would've insisted on getting her back. Besides this is better than her growing up somewhere not even knowing you existed. At least she knows she has brothers who love her so much they gave her up for her own good."

Cas nodded sheepishly.  _Dean wasn't wrong, Nick wasn't wrong…_ He knew that, but it still hurt. He wondered if he could ever forgive Nick. Maybe he would… but it would take time.

"What am I going to do, Dean?" he quietly asked the sleeping figure.

"Put on your songs and dance while you make us breakfast," was the answer whispered in his ear.

Cas turned his head to look at his fiancé, who was still asleep, but his lips were curled in a smile. "You're awake," he stated.

Dean blinked his eyes open and grinned. "Of course I'm awake. I wake up the minute you start fidgeting. I just like to sleep next to you. I'm surprised it took you so long to figure it out."

Cas blushed. He had never thought that Dean enjoyed the sleeping part of "sleeping together" as much as he did. "Are you going to get up now?" he asked.

"No. I'm gonna pretend this never happened and you still don't know anything, and pretend to be asleep," Dean replied matter of factly. "And you better not move, Novak," he warned. Cas smiled and snuggled in closer, basking in his warmth.

Finally, he got bored of just lying around. "I'm getting up," he whispered. Dean grunted in protest, but his eyes remained closed. Cas moved away and kissed him, which was returned quite passionately by the "sleeping" man.

-x-x-x-

He showered quickly, then went into the kitchen. He had long mastered the art of moving around without making a lot of noise. It had been Godsent on the field, now he used it to work quietly around the house, without waking its sleeping inhabitants. Except him and Dean, everyone else was on a holiday and deserved to sleep in. Besides it was only 6.30, which was early, even by normal standards.

He got out his Ipod and put in the earphones. After yet another fight over their music preferences, Dean had marched him into the electronic shop and handed him a new Ipod with "Stop destroying my cassette tape collection. This is for you and your stupid girly songs." He usually listened to songs while making breakfast, sometimes danced to them if the tune was catchy enough. And Dean liked to watch. More often than not, it led to lots of sexy times.

He blushed thinking about it. For the next two weeks they had to tone it down or risk corrupting the younger minds. He changed the music to a soft undanceable tune. He listened for minute, then he threw caution to the winds changed it back.  _If Major couldn't control himself, it wasn't his fault._

He started dancing slowly to the beats, moving around the kitchen. He made a fresh pot of coffee, put bread slices in the toaster and opened a new tub of butter. Dean usually joked that Cas' toast were drowning in it… but he didn't care. He loved it like that. He decided to make pancakes for Claire. He had 4 different types of syrups. He didn't know what she liked anymore. He pulled out the ingredients he needed. He always made everything from scratch…  _none of that ready-made supermarket crap for my family…_ and set out mixing the batter.

He felt a gaze on his back.  _Major_ , he thought. He wriggled his hips just a little and continued dancing as he heated the pan, greased it and set about making pancakes. Any moment now, he would feel the warm hand grab his waist and pull him down in his lap. He ignored the urge to face his fiancé, keeping his back to him and moving his hips in rhythm to the music. He had flipped the half cooked batter out of the pan, when someone cleared their throat behind him. He jerked around and the pancake landed on the floor, face down, with a splat!

Cas stared in horror at the intruder. It wasn't his fiancé, it was his younger sister. He felt his face heat up and had the sudden urge to crawl into a hole and wait for the world to end. Instead he turned off the music and composed himself, calmly picking up the wasted pancake from the floor and throwing it away. He poured a fresh cup into the pan and turned to face his sister once again. "You're up early," he observed.

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep last night," she replied, suddenly taking an interest in her feet. "What about you?"

"Major snores," he grinned. "I never sleep."

"Why do you call him Major?" she asked, leaning against the counter.

"He was in the army when we first met. Major Winchester, Special Forces," he replied. "I guess it just stuck. I'm only one who calls him that anymore. Do you like pancakes?"

She nodded, her eyes shining. "Mother used to make excellent pancakes. Anna liked hers with chocolate sauce, I prefer strawberry syrup."

"Uh… no strawberry, but I do have blueberry and maple, if that's acceptable," he said, flipping it over.

"No problem," she replied, suddenly coming to stand beside him. "What're you listening?"

"What?" he asked confused.

"The song you were dancing to," she explained.

"Oh." He turned the player on and Shakira started singing " _Hips_   _don't_   _lie_ ," he replied. "Do you want to…?" he asked, offering her an earpiece. She took it and stood beside him, both swaying in identical rhythm, as he continued flipping.

When Michael Buble started crooning " _Sway_ ", he turned off the stove and began twirling her around the kitchen. Their feet fell in perfect sync… as if their bodies knew exactly what the other wanted… their movements an extension of one another. By the time the song ended, both were holding onto each other for support, laughing breathlessly.

She pulled back and looked at him with tearful eyes. "Are you still angry at me, Jimmy?" she asked softly.

Cas shook his head. What could he say? He was angry. He was very angry… at the circumstances under which they separated, at Nicky for giving her up, at turn of events that forced a 16 year old kid to make that decision… He was angry at everything and everyone. But not her.  _Never her._

He smiled and raised his arms. She crushed their bodies together, her arms going around his body and squeezing for all she was worth. He circled his arms around her and held her for the first time in 22 years and finally said the words that had been on his lips ever since he had reached under the bed for his sister and came up empty handed, "Time for breakfast, baby Claire."


	12. The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas get married. Obviously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Very Special thanks to **Barbara Lee Follet's** _"Checklist for a Perfect Wedding"_ , a handy handbook which turned out to be the best impulse buy ever… mainly because I had no idea that six years later, I would be using it as guide to plan my gay fanfic wedding!
> 
> Anyways, thanks for the Kudos (I appreciate it) and Bookmarks (seriously guys, it's an honour). I would really love the comments though (I'm always open to suggestions… and criticisms).

**Part 8**

"Hey, Jimmy. You alright?"

Cas turned away from the mirror, his new black suit a little crumpled, his tie askew and sighed. "Do I  _look_  alright?" he asked exasperatedly.

Claire laughed and glided into the room, a vision in her blue, off shoulder, knee length bridesmaid's dress, that matched his tie. She wordlessly held out her hand for his jacket. He handed it to her and watched her place it carefully on the bed. She pulled out a small travelling iron – the one he used to carry around in the nomadic stage of his life – from his duffel and set about removing the creases. She silently fingered the warm fabric, then handed it back to him.

"How's he?" he asked, as she straightened his tie, buttoned up his vest, then started straightening his collar.

"This is stupid. Why should I do this…? I'm not coming out..." she mimicked. "He had a few choice words for everybody, but he reserved the best ones for you."

Cas slumped beneath her hands. "This was a mistake," he sighed.

"Hey, you were the one who wanted a wedding," she replied. "We just tweaked it up a little. Now I'll leave you alone," she added quickly, before her brother could strangle her.

Castiel nodded dejectedly and watched as the  _Maidzilla_   _from_   _Hell_  walked outside leaving him alone. He had thought after he got Claire back, she would fill the "sweet loving caring" baby sister role that abrasive, brash-mouthed Jo so clearly left to be desired.  _Now he had to deal with_ two _Jo's._ He pulled out his cell phone, a cheap disposable one that Dean had given him for the duration of this…  _thing_ , and dialed.

.

Dean picked up on the third ring and at the first "Hey, Major," his anger dissipated.

"You alright?" Cas asked.

"What do you think?" Dean replied. "I was looking forward to my wedding… not a circus."

Cas started to say something, when someone tapped on the bathroom door. "It's almost time, Dean," Jo called out. "Quit yapping and get ready."

"Fuck you, Jo," Dean yelled at the door. "Don't you have someone else to go and harass?"

"I do, actually," Jo shouted back. "But I can't leave here until you come out and wear your pants."

Cas, who could overhear Jo, laughed. "You're not wearing pants?" he asked incredulously.

"Non Cooperation," Dean deadpanned. "If it worked for Gandhi…"

"Have you been reading my books, Major?" Cas asked disbelievingly. The very thought of Dean reading "douche-y" biographies of world political leaders was…

"What?" Dean asked irritatedly. "I get bored when you're not around."

Jo hammered at the door again. "2 minutes," she yelled. "Or I'm getting Sam to break the door down."  _Apparently Jo hadn't heard about Gandhi._

"I'm not wearing  _any_  clothes," Dean snapped, much to Cas' amusement.

"Wouldn't bother me," Jo snapped back, unfazed. "Carmen  _loves_  to chat."

Dean blushed and Cas laughed out loud. Then he sighed,  _this had gone on long enough._ "Major," he said exasperatedly. "The faster we get this over with, the faster we can get to  _other_ activities." He took a deep breath, "And if you behave, I'll even let—"

"Brain bleach alert!" Claire interjected, before he could even start. He turned around to see Claire holding up a pink Carnation. He raised an eyebrow towards her. "Pink is for loyalty," she replied.

"Gotta go, Major," he said into the phone. "See you at the altar. I love you, hubby," he added quietly, hoping Dean was done sulking. Apparently he had, because he heard, "Jo, fetch my pants," before the line went dead.

Cas plastered a smile on his face, it wasn't that he wasn't happy, he was just tired, and let his sister pin the flower on his lapel, wondering how the fuck they had managed to find themselves in this mess.

-x-x-x-

In hindsight, it could be said that the problems had started cropping up four months ago, the day after their engagement.

Sam and Jess, the first ones to know, had been elated. But they wanted the wedding to happen before the baby arrived, because they wanted to name Dean and Cas as Godparents, and thought it would be better if they signed as a married couple, as opposed to two single men. That had essentially set the deadline.

And if having a "4 months" (because at seven months, it was the latest Jess could safely travel long distance) clock ticking on you is not enough, the fact that Dean wanted a quiet low-key court marriage hadn't gone down with… well, anybody.

For Sam, and by extension Jess and Dee, his only brother was getting married and, like the  _little_   _bitch_   _Samantha_  that he was, he wanted to make the occasion as special as possible. When Dean refused saying he didn't need Sam's help, Sam pulled out the biggest weapon in his arsenal and had Dee plead his case. And since Dean has always been a sucker for pretty faces, and his niece, he had no choice but to comply.

When Cas mentioned, just in passing, that he wished he had his family with him, Ellen muttered, "Family don't always end in blood, boy," and promptly adopted him, even agreeing to pay for his share of the ceremony. Cas refused saying he had some money saved up. But when Ellen goes "Mrs. Harvelle" on your ass, or Jo glares at you like you've set the Devil free, and there's always a possibility of Ash wiping out your existence from the face of the earth, you don't really have a choice. So Cas  _let_  them pay for the food and drinks.

After that the wedding took a life of its own. It seemed like everyone in town wanted to be a part of it, because as some old bitty, who had married off 2 daughters, 1 son and 4 granddaughters, said, "What do two men know about planning weddings?" More than being the town's most prominent gay-wedding, the fact that it was Dean Winchester…  _the_   _Dean Winchester…_  settling roots down, that made it the event of the century.

Since they didn't have anyone other than their extended family of 10 to invite, all those people who called Dean and Cas their friends, not necessarily vice versa, invited themselves. When Dean absolutely refused to pay for the 100 odd guests that had  _answered_  the RSVPs, most whom they didn't even know, the guests decided to pitch in for themselves.

"I don't want anyone's fucking charity," Dean had yelled, "I just want to get married in peace," turning around and stalking away.

"It's not charity, ya idjit," Bobby said, dragging him to the secluded corner of the yard for his long pending " _man_   _talk_ ". "All those people out there have been touched by "Rusty" Winchester, in some way or the other. And this is their way of showing how much you mean to them. So be a man and suck it up. What's important is the person you get married to, not how you get married."

And Dean, who was more touched than he would ever admit, agreed to get a little more involved. If by getting involved he meant veto'ing each and every suggestion that was brought up, he may have neglected to mention it.

Ellen found a couple of caterer friends and teamed with a woman named Tamara for planning the reception, while Jo immediately established herself as the "Maid of Honour" and the head of wedding committee.

A girl named Becky set up their wedding registry and teamed with Carmen to sort guests into their categories, checking seating arrangements, allotting roles.

The local band, that had opened for a band, that had opened for a band, that had opened for Rolling Stones, and whose lead guitarist was one of the "Dean-boys",  _agreed_  to play at the wedding and reception. Dean and Cas fought over the song list, but ultimately settled for a few songs that they both agreed upon.

Dean refused to have anything to do with pink or flowers, but Cas allowed them only where absolutely necessary. Needless to say, most girls liked Cas better.

It wasn't like they didn't have their share of naysayers. Lilith and her church group were vocally opposed to the idea of  _those_  people destroying the sanctity of their town. That is, until Pastor Jim, who had married Sam and Jess, and Dean's parents and grandparents, offered to officiate the wedding, saying that while the church was opposed to two men getting married, he was willing to make an exception in their case, because they were practically family.

Meanwhile in California, Jessica disowned her parents. Apparently the Moores had no idea Dean was "an abomination" because he was in the army, and his social life had never been up for discussion until Cas came along. And after a few "God loves all" speeches, Jess' hormones finally won over her rationality and she called her mother a "homophobic bitch" and her dad "a spineless jerk" and told them that not only were they  _not_  invited to the wedding, they also were not welcome at their house anymore. And they could forget about meeting their grandson – who was to be named John Nicholas Winchester, after Sam's dad and Cas' brother – because they didn't want their children growing up around people who couldn't love and respect their own family.

**Then two weeks ago,** Adam's date turned out to be Cas' little sister, and she and Jo got along like a house on fire. Claire had called her mother – her father passed away last year – and Balthazar, Nicky's once best friend, and Cas' sort of first boyfriend, to the wedding. Apparently, Nicky had confided to him about her a few weeks before he died, and Balthazar had watched out for her afterwards.

The family reunion had been a tearful on both sides, and while Balthazar could not come to the wedding (he was still wanted in connection with the alleged murders of the Walker gang), he agreed to send his wife, Celine – which Cas thought was hilariously ironic, considering Bart had a stalker-y obsessive sort of hatred towards Celine Dion – and kids, Megan and Luce "with a ' _C'_. They all had arrived two days ago, setting up shop at the Roadhouse, which had unofficially turned into Camp Novak.

**Then last week,** Jo and Claire had marched into the garage after closing time, packed Cas into the Impala and taken him to Roadhouse for the traditional "separate beds" custom. It hadn't gone down well with both of them, but they had no option other than to go along with it. They still met at work, and the phone Dean had gifted his fiancé was their lifeline.

**Then 3 days ago** , in deference to their wishes for a low-key, quiet, court marriage, Dean, Cas, Sam and Claire had driven down to Iowa, where gay-marriages are legal, and registered for the license. Cas officially changed his name to James Castiel Novak-Winchester. They didn't need any blood tests or physicals, but they both still had gotten one done after Cas' freakout over the condom the night of their engagement… and needless to say, both were clean.

Sam and Claire had left soon after. And Dean and Cas had sneaked a few hours at their pond, their last date as an engaged couple, before Dean reluctantly dropped Cas off at Ellen's. The papers would be finalized in time for their wedding.

But the shit hadn't hit the fan until rehearsal dinner last night, when Dean had taken one look at the last minute preparations, and locked himself in his room, refusing to come out until they left him alone – just a classic case of pre-wedding jitters, Cas had been assured – blaming Cas for making him go through this.

That is until, Jo came in with news that Dean had agreed to move his pity party to the wedding venue.

-x-x-x-

"Hey, Cas," Adam hissed coming to stand beside him.

"What?" Cas asked. The Maidzillas from Hell had gone to powder their noses, leaving him alone outside the chapel door. Jo and Claire were going to escort him down the aisle, while Dean was supposed to be waiting at the altar with Sam and Adam.

"He wanted you have this," Adam whispered, furtively glancing around and handing him a folded piece of paper.

Cas suddenly tensed.  _What if Dean had bailed…?_ He looked suspiciously at Adam, dread creeping into his every pour, and unfolded it with shaking hands. "Is he for real?" he asked aghast, looking at the scribbling on the paper.

"Apparently," Adam smirked. "He spent the whole night working on it. 'If I'm gonna make fool of myself in front of everyone, I might as well do it my way'," he mimicked, air quoting.

Cas laughed, because,  _yeah, that would totally be like his Major._ "Who knows about this?" he asked.

"Sam, Jess, Dee and Me," Adam replied.

Cas nodded. He should have guessed. The usual suspects would also be the partners-in-crime. "Anything else I should now about?"

Adam hesitated and grimaced. "Not really… It's going to be a surprise. For Everyone," he said.

"Hey, what're you doing here?" Jo asked coming to stand beside her charge. "Aren't you supposed to be…?" she asked, thumbing in direction of the closed doors. Claire took Cas' arm on the other side and stared inquisitively at her boyfriend.

"Nothing," Adam replied. "I was just here to wish him luck. I'm gonna go now," he murmured and casually turned around walking to side entrance, before running to stand behind Dean. "Done," he whispered in Dean's ears, taking his place on the other side.

"Sammy, you up for it," Dean asked once again. He turned to his younger brother who was going to carry most of the burden.

Sam smirked. "I played football, Dean," he replied, bending down to his level. "And unlike  _someone_  I actually like to work out."

Dean grinned, as the band hit the chords and started the intro to  _Nothing_   _Else_   _Matters_  (Cas' entrance music), and the doors clicked open. And everyone turned around to look at the grand entrance.

"Okay, Sammy," he whispered rubbing his hands conspiratorially and reached up throw his left hand over his younger brother's shoulder, "Up."

Sam's right hand found his brother's waist and he stood up straight, heaving Dean to his feet. Adam pushed the wheelchair a little back and supported him from the other side, just as Cas stepped through the doors flanked by Jo and Claire on either side.

Cas was the first one to see it. Sam, Dean and Adam were practically huddled together at the foot of altar… Dean standing upright, grinning like a fool. He hissed, and fought every urge in his body to hurry towards his fiancé, forcing himself to remain calm.  _He should have known Dean would do something like this. He had mentioned a while back that he wasn't getting married in a wheelchair._  He just hoped Sam wouldn't drop him till they finished.

Jo was the next one. "What the heck is he doing?" she hissed in his ear.

"Being Dean," Cas simply replied.

As Cas came to stand beside him, the audience saw the sight in the front and emitted a collective gasp. Cas ignored it in favour of giving his groom a once over. They both were wearing identical suits, but where Cas' tie was blue to bring out the colour in his eyes, Dean's was forest green to match his. Unlike Cas' pink carnation, he had a Lily of the Valley boutonnière stuck to his lapel. Cas resisted the urge to reach forward and touch it. "You alright, Major?" he whispered and Dean smiled.

"It pays to have a giant Sasquatch for a brother," he whispered back, winking at Sam, and taking his hand away from Sam's shoulder and holding both of Cas' hands in his own.

Sam moved behind him and used both hands to keep Dean standing. If he was feeling a little uncomfortable practically being used as a crutch, or if his arms had started aching for more or less holding up full weight of a 190 lbs man, his elder brother's happiness more than made up for it.

The Pastor cleared his throat. "Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of two souls…"

The silence was a bit prominent when the Pastor asked if anyone objected to the union.

When Pastor called for the vows, Dean whispered that had their own vows. Adam handed the ring to Dean, a simple gold band, reminiscent of Cas' engagement ring. And instead of the beautiful promises of true love and affection, that a starry eyed romantic named Polly had written, the ones that had initiated his temper tantrum, he cleared his throat and sang in a loud voice…

" _No one told me I was going to find you… Unexpected what you did to my heart…  
When I lost hope… you were there to remind me, this is the start…"_

…pushing the ring on Cas' finger. Cas smiled and reached to Claire for his ring.

" _I'll be there when the world stops turning… I'll be there when the storm is through…  
In the end I wanna be standing, at the beginning with you…"_

He sang sliding his ring on Dean's finger. Dean grinned at him, his trademark dazzling cocky grin, as the Pastor cleared his throat and took a lot of time proclaiming, "And by the power vested in me, by the church and the state of South Dakota, I now pronounce you "Husbands". You may kiss each other."

As soon as he said "kiss," Cas practically leaped at Dean, pulling him close, leaning his full body against himself, as he captured his Major's lips in their first kiss as a married couple. Sam stepped back, shaking off the hurt in his arms, and pushed the wheelchair forward, so that when Dean was finally released, breathless but on top of the world, he could directly fall back into it.

The entire crowd erupted in loud whooping cheers as Cas knelt before his new husband and kissed him once again, like he always did…  _like he always would._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The vows are the lyrics to _"At The Beginning"_ by **Richard Marx** and **Donna Lewis** , from the movie Anastasia, the same movie Cas was singing from when Dean overheard him the first time, outside the Roadhouse. (Apparently it's NOT a Disney movie.)


	13. The Reception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course, The Reception follows The Wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The totally unnecessary description of wedding cake is because I had no intention of having a cake, but then I saw The One. I just a changed it a little, to suit the story.
> 
> The name of the wedding band was inspired by this statement: _"Dick Roman and the Leviathans. Is it just me or does this sound like the name of a garage band?"_ Whoever wrote that is a friggin' genius!

**Part 9**

Their wedding cake was beautiful. It had three layers… the bottom two set up like steps, with fondant dolls depicting each member of the wedding party – a tiny Claire standing over a passed out drunk Adam, drunk Jo barely sitting upright in the corner, and a pregnant Jess, holding what looked like Dee, complete with her own miniscule version of a teddy bear, in the other corner and finally, Sam in the center, holding a fondant "bill" that almost stretched down to the table.

The topmost tier was separated from the rest of the cake by four golden posts and served as a platform for two grooms, the one with a little blue tie – Cas – stoically looking down at the one with a little green tie – Dean – lying on the ground, legs flailing, his little fondant wheelchair sitting upright behind him, a bottle of champagne lying close. To anyone looking, it would seem that the green groom had slipped off his wheelchair and passed out on the floor, drunk.

* * *

 

"I still can't believe you're showing up late at your own reception," Claire muttered, hurrying forward to help Dean out of the new rental car.

Jo and Bobby were safely keeping the Impala, with her newly attached roof carrier for his wheelchair, out of sight till they started on their honeymoon tomorrow. Dean had begrudgingly allowed for the modifications because they needed extra room in the back and trunk for their bags.

"It's not like anyone cares," Dean replied. "They are more than happy entertaining themselves," looking disdainfully at the guests, some on the makeshift dance floor… others helping themselves to whatever drinks and appetizers the waiters were carrying around, totally inconsiderate of the fact that the  _Hosts_  hadn't arrived yet.

-x-x-x-

Their reception wasn't "a reception" in the strictest sense of the term. They didn't really need one because, as Dean pointed out, their families… and the entire town… would already have "received and welcomed them" at the wedding.

So Dean, because he was the best thing Sioux Falls had seen since  _that Zombie Apocalypse of 1936,_  had decided that instead of a stuffy useless reception, the world would benefit more from a real, honest-to-god  _Dean_   _Winchester_  party.

Of course, Sam, Jo and other people in their age bracket had been more than ecstatic, while those of their parents generation had shaken their heads in disbelief and turned 50 shades of grey… some even commenting that they had no idea Dean would get so pissed about the whole wedding thing… much to the fascination and amusement of everyone over 30, who had known Dean for less than 10 years. Including Cas.  _Especially_  Cas.

That is… until Sam explained that the Win-Collins parties were engrained into the Sioux Falls history, with almost 30% of the urban legends based around them. Gabe and Dean, the Hosts of Heaven, as they were called, had owned the Sioux Falls party circuit, from the day they became old enough to drive, to the day they left for Westpoint - Dean, the one with the craziest ideas, planned, and Gabe, the self proclaimed Trickster, executed. And more often than not, the parties ended, much to chagrin of the attendees, with an ambulance, a fire truck and at least two police cars unnecessarily crashing the latest site.

"What?" Sam asked, when Cas gaped at the idea of Major _,_   _his rational, half-insane Major,_  acting like  _that_.

"He said he was rational… not crazy, impulsive…" he started, but stopped at the look that crossed Sam's face before he started laughing. "What?" he snapped.

"He said that!?" Sam asked ludicrously. "That he never did anything crazy?!"

Cas raked his brain. "Major  _did_  say something like "I don't rush in blindly"… I assumed…"

Sam nodded knowingly. "They didn't… Dean planned everything down to the last detail… taking everything about everything into consideration. Gabe listened to him and tweaked it up with his own unique brand of craziness. No changes of any kind could affect their perfect plans. Ever. That's why no one got hurt… or killed," he added proudly, then shut up when he caught Dean's eye.

Cas turned around to see what had suddenly stopped the verbal diarrhoea but only saw Dean ordering the volunteers. He turned back to Sam, eyebrows raised in question.

"It's just…" Sam lowered his voice and leaned in so close, to anyone seeing from afar it would seem that Sam was sniffing his neck. "In the field also they followed the same routine… it worked best for them. Even on the mission they got caught."

Cas leaned back and looked in Sam's eyes. They were ghosting with tears. "How would you know?" he asked curiously.

"The nightmares," Sam whispered. "He talked a lot…  _apologized_  a lot… I think they made him watch…" Cas turned to look at Dean who was happily ordering the volunteers about. "It was more losing Gabe than losing his legs that made him like this… We can't thank you enough for bringing him back to us…" he continued, not even bothering to cover his tears.

"Okay, Samantha, girl-time over," Dean interrupted them. "What are you talking about?" he asked suspiciously, seeing Sam's tear-stained face.

"Uh… I was telling him about the time you set the Kennedy's place on fire," Sam replied, forcing a smile into his voice.

"Hey!" Dean protested. "That wasn't me. It was Gabe," he fell silent "Oh, I miss the sneaky bastard." Then snickered. "Hey Sam, remember Groundhog Tuesday?" he asked poking his brother in the ribs.

Sam groaned. "I was  _16_  and you're so going to Hell for that," he muttered blushing and biting his lip, but it looked like he was trying to suppress a grin.

"What?" Cas asked intrigued.

"They killed Tuesdays for me," Sam whined while Dean only laughed, "Family secret. Only between brothers. Sorry. Not even Jess knows, it would be unfair if you did," he said winking. "C'mon, Sasquatch," he clapped his hands gleefully. "I need some help with the ball."

**-x-**

The planning was pretty much a smooth selling. Dean knew what he was doing, what he wanted and how to get it done – orders or complements… money or smiles – and trusted others to do what they were told. And the fact that everyone seemed to be hanging onto his every word, submitting themselves to his will, and scrambling to do his bidding, like obedient little slaves, made matters even easier.

Dean had the warehouse-cum-stable, where Jo had stashed the Impala, converted into a disco. The floor was cleaned, and transformed into a makeshift dance floor, complete with hardwood flooring. They found a huge 80s disco ball at the costume shop and installed it, along with a few disco lights to go with the décor. A temporary stage for the band, a temporary bar to deal with the increased traffic...

"Well… you could always have retro-theme disco parties here," Dean said, when Ellen grumbled that he was destroying her place with unnecessary modifications that would only have to be pulled down later. "Whadd'ya think, Ash?" And Ash "One Man Crusader To Bring Back The 80s With A Vengeance" Porter had practically died of happiness.

He had Cas, "who by the way is excellent cook himself. You should think about displaying his walnut-choconut brownies some time, they'll send your sales through the roof", choose the Hors d'oeuvres – pizza pinwheels, mini pigs-in-pokes  _(which had Dean going, "Hey, Sammy! Tuesday. Pig in a poke," which earned him a grunt and whine)_ , a few types of kebabs, bacon wrapped shrimps – anything that could be eaten without too much fuss, since most of the crowd would be on the dance floor and wouldn't want sticky fingers in their partner's hair, or on the clothes.

Then he sat down with the band, Dick Roman and Leviathans, with Dick barely resisting the urge to sit in Dean's lap, and mapped out the playlist that suited both their sensibilities… head banging rock covers, mixed with hip shaking numbers and coupled with slow waltzes… officially proving that he was way more of a music geek than he would ever admit. When Celine, a singer, came into the picture and started feeling a little left out, Dean modified the list to include a couple of extremely sappy love songs "but none of that Celine Dion crap", because Balth, his new BFF – they had bonded over their mutual hatred of  _Titanic,_ while still appreciative of Winslet's rack – had warned him against it.

Everything had gone perfectly smoothly. That is… until they had returned home from the wedding bone tired, overslept and turned up more than an hour late for their own party.

It wasn't like they had planned to oversleep. It was Sam's job to wake them up in time, but after seeing them sleeping, curled around each other, limbs tangled, finally at peace – he could hear Dean through the walls, and he didn't think Cas would've been much better – he had just snapped a couple of pictures, and forwarded the best one to Dean's cell with a message "be there when you wake up", before quietly closing the door behind him. He had then forwarded the pictures to everyone he could think of, with the caption "Aww! They're  _sho_  ado…rable! *winky face*", so no one would disturb them.

And Cas, being the awesome husband that he was, had given Dean permission to murder Sam, "but wait until after the honeymoon. He's paying for it."

But the best thing about having Dean Winchester plan the event was that he took  _everything_  into consideration, and there were blanket instructions to start the party at 6.30, irrespective who did… or didn't… show up. Needless to say, it had started without them.

-x-x-x-

"Wait here," Claire said, "I'll tell them the  _hosts_  have finally arrived" gliding inside, as Cas bent down to fuss with Dean's collar.

Since this was a special occasion, Cas with a little help from Carmen and Celine, had teamed a white long sleeved t-shirt and black jeans with a semi-formal light grey blazer for Dean, and the same outfit in Navy blue with a black V-neck tee for himself. He pulled back his hands as Dean reached up to straighten his already perfect collar, and bestowed him with a kiss.

**-x-**

Claire walked up to the stage, where the band was quietly playing in the background, and whispered to the lead guitarist, Dick. Dick turned around to instruct his band, as she beckoned Celine from the crowd. The drummer, Edgar, tapped his sticks to count the beats and the band broke into instrumental version of the  _Heat_   _of_   _the_   _Moment_  to get everyone's attention.

Adam, in his newest role as the announcer, told everyone to settle down because the show was finally getting started, then waited until the band faded into silence, before announcing "Mr.… and Mr. Winchester, everybody."

The crowd cheered as Dean and Cas entered, hand in hand, grinning ear to ear, and started mingling with the guests.

After what seemed like hours… or days, Dean wasn't sure… the band started again, and Sam appeared, a little tipsy, on the stage with a champagne flute. "Excuse me? Can we have those two lovebirds up front? Not everyone has amazing hot sex to look forward to for the next 10-15 days."

"Hey! Speak for yourself," someone yelled.

The newly married couple laughed as they made their way up front. As soon as they reached close enough, Sam spoke up, "I'd like to take this opportunity to pity… er,  _WELCOME_! Sorry, slip o' tongue," he clicked his tongue for added effect, the crowd laughed, "the person who has voluntarily chosen to spend his life getting harassed by Dean Winchester. To Cas," he yelled, saluting with his glass and downing his drink in one gulp.

"To Cas," the crowd roared as Celine took Sam's place... or rather, pushed him out of the way. On cue, the band started a slow, soulful rendition and Celine sang,

" _I never thought that_ you'd _be the one to hold my heart…  
But you came around and you knocked me, off the ground from the start..._

_You put your arms around me and I believed that it's easier for you to let me go…  
You put your arms around me and I'm home… You put your arms around me and I'm home"_

"Okay, people," Celine ended Cas' toast, and continued in an odd sing-song Canadian-French accent, "Since you have already welcomed Cas into your families, it's time we welcome Dean into ours. Here's to the man who stole our sweet little Jimmy's heart. Here's… to Dean," she said, tossing back her champagne.

"To Dean," the crowd roared, as Dick took her place, slinging his guitar and swaying his hips to the slight upbeat jazz,

" _From the moment I first saw you, knew my heart could be not be free…  
Had to hold in my arms now... There can never be another for me…"_

As soon as he finished, the rest of the Leviathans let loose, and started drumming out the chorus of,

" _And it was the heat of the moment, telling me what my heart meant.  
The heat of the moment showed in your eyes…_

_It was the heat of the moment, telling me what your heart meant.  
The heat of the moment showed in your eyes…_

_Heat of the moment… Heat of the moment… Heat of the moment showed in your eyes…"_

The band stretched the chords more than required, sending the crowd into a drunken frenzy. They faded away to the chants of "Encore! Encore!" which stopped only after Dean appeared on the stage and strummed his guitar a few times.

"Crowd! Calm down!" Dean hollered and silence fell over the room. He grinned. "To the dance floor, everybody." As everybody shuffled to the dance floor, laughing and muttering, crowding into the small space, Dean cleared his throat. "I have been told, time and again, that I can't dance. Apparently I don't have the right kind of legs for it…"

The people their age laughed heartily, while the younger crowd giggled nervously not sure what to read into the joke. Cas, on the other hand, frowned thinking that Dean was taking another self-deprecating jab at himself, until a woman named Rebecca assured him that this was a running joke… initiated after a very drunk Dean, and his wobbly bow legs, attempted to do Charlie Brown polka on the Roadhouse bar, in their senior year.

"…so," Dean continued, as Cas turned his attention back to his husband, only to discover that not only had he missed a chunk of Dean's speech, but also that he was alone in the middle of floor and had a spotlight, and eyes of everyone in the room, trained on him. He turned an alarming shade of pink and desperately met his Major's gaze.

Dean tilted his head sideways and grinned cockily. "I guess my  _hus…_ band," he rolled it off his tongue and winked at the said guy, making him shiver to the bones, "has finally decided to join us again. Now… as I was saying…" Dean cradled the guitar and strummed a few chords for dramatic effect, "Since we won't be having a traditional first dance, does anyone volunteer for this once in a lifetime opportunity to dance with Cas Novak-Winchester. No family," he clarified, when Claire stepped forward. "Sorry."

After much deliberation, whispering, finger pointing, and poking and prodding, a young man, barely 20, lurched forward, steadied himself and offered his hand. "Hey! I'm Neil," he mumbled.

Cas remembered him as the kid who was gawking him on his very first day at the garage. He smiled and accepted it. "Hey, Neil. I'm Cas," he replied and was met with a blinding smile.

Dean cleared his throat to turn the attention back to him, gestured to the band, letting them warm the crowd, then sang in a loud clear voice,

" _You can dance, every dance with the guy who gives eye let him hold you tight…_  
You can smile, every smile for the man who held your hand beneath pale moonlight…  
But don't forget who's taking you home… And in who's arms you're gonna be…  
So darling, save the last dance for me…"

as Cas happily twirled the kid around the floor. Dean finished the first song and vacated the stage, letting the band take over, as the other couples joined in, and a few more cut into each other for the opportunity to dance with Cas, all of whom he happily obliged while strictly adhering to the "no family" rule.

Sam, since Jess had opted to stay at home and watch over the kids, grabbed Celine by her waist and started spinning her around the floor, his 6-and-a-half feet towering over a petite five-something frame.

Cas left the floor as soon as the first set finished and found Dean sitting on a ratty old loveseat, in a corner, away from the crowd, nursing a half-empty bottle of champagne.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Cas scolded, snatching the bottle from his hands and taking a few sips himself. "What are you doing here?" he asked sitting down beside him.

"I thought I could do it," Dean shrugged. "But everyone keeps talking about  _him_ … I can't… He should've been here… standing by me... making fun of Sam and his happy drunk… or the fact I can't do the polka on the bar anymore… and you. He would've loved you… you are just like him," he muttered, pulling Cas closer, till he was practically sitting in his lap, and nuzzled his neck.

Cas sighed and twisted around till he was comfortably settled in Dean's lap, legs sprawling along the length of the couch, arms circled his around his neck and pulled him in a kiss. They spent long minutes making out like horny teenagers and feeding each other from a couple of champagne bottles Cas had snagged from somewhere… until the band erupted with a renewed vigour, and Claire and Jo came looking for Cas, for their traditional brother-sister dance.

"I'm not coming," Cas pouted in his typical "not drunk but getting there" way. "Don't like people watching me dance."

"C'mon Cas," Jo cajoled. "We practiced it remember. You don't have to worry. No one's going to eat you… Or laugh at you…"

"No!" Cas murmured, pressing himself even further in Dean's lap. "I'm not going," he repeated like a petulant child.

"What's he talking about?" Dean asked confused.  _Not half an hour ago, Cas was perfectly happy being passed around like a bong._  "He was fine with people watching him dance before."

"Oh, it's not that kind of dance," Claire replied. "It's…" she bent to whisper in Dean's ear, even though everyone else present in their circle was privy to the secret.

Dean's eyes widened. "No!" he gasped. "You can't make him do that!"

"Pwease?" Jo whined and pouted. "It's pewfect. Pwettyy pwease?" she said in a creepy little girl's voice, stomping her feet.

Dean shuddered. "Promise to never do that again and we have a deal," he said extending his hand. Cas gaped at him like he was being sold to the devil.

Jo nodded and shook it. "Deal," she replied in her normal voice.

"No!" Cas said hugging his husband's neck in a barely-there choke-hold. "Not. Going."

Dean sighed. "Go ahead, I'll get him," he said and watched Jo and Claire hurry towards the stage before turning back to the scared Angel in his lap. "Do it," he stated.

Cas stared at him. "No!" he asserted, shaking his head vigorously. "It's only for you. Stupid Claire  _spied_  on me then told  _her…_ I'm not sharing it with anyone else. It's yours… and mine."

"Then do it for me," Dean replied. "I'll be there. Okay? You look at me and do it."

"Everyone will laugh," Cas argued. "They'll think I'm a freak."

"You  _are_  a freak," Dean replied. "But so am I. That's what makes a perfect couple. Now go and give 'em hell. Show 'em what you got. Besides they're so drunk, they won't remember any of it tomorrow."

That seemed to calm him down. "Okay," he murmured pulling Dean in another hungry kiss and standing up. He could see a semi hard-on on Dean and laughed, extremely pleased with himself. He waited until Dean made a successful transition from the couch to his wheelchair, then walked back with him to the dance floor Claire and Jo had already cleared.

Cas handed his jacket to Dean, kissed him one more time, took a deep breath and went to stand between his sisters, his eyes on his Major, imagining himself in their kitchen making breakfast while Dean watched. "Okay," he breathed and the band exploded,

" _I like to move it, move it…_ _I_ _like to move it, move it… I like to move it, move it… You like to… MOVE IT!  
I like to move it, move it… _ _I_ _like to move it, move it… I like to move it, move it… You like to… MOVE IT!"_

True to his promise, Cas threw himself into the dance with abandon, shaking his hips and gyrating to the loud beats, his attention focused solely on his husband who was staring back at him with pure lust, both their jackets clutched in his lap to hide the reaction that was happening to his body. Cas grinned, extremely pleased with what he was doing to him. He grabbed one of the girls, he was too forgone himself to notice which one, and spun her around, so fast he thought she crashed when he released her, and went for the other one. By the time the song ended, it had lasted hardly 3 minutes, he could see Dean was almost on the edge.

As soon as Edgar gave the final drum roll, he jumped off the floor, took hold of one of the wheelchair arms and dragged the contraption towards the toilets, ignoring the half-drunk, knowing smirks they were getting. He tried the Men's first, but someone was already getting happy in it. Fortunately the Women's was empty. He pushed Dean inside, then shut the door behind them and locked it. He fell to his knees, yanking the jackets away and pulling at the button and the zipper as fast as he could, while Dean leaned his head back, eyes closed, and grunted happily.

They had progressed enough in their therapy that Cas could get a little rough without fear. Cas reached and pulled out his husband's hard cock, already oozing precum, from the boxers and reached up to take him in his mouth. It took only a couple of yanks and a slight tongue-on-slit action, before Dean let out a strangled half-cry and emptied himself in his Angel's mouth.

As he waited for his breath to settle, Cas tucked him back and crawled into his lap, kissing him with the same abandon he had displayed on the dance floor. Dean could taste the champagne, tangy aftertaste of the appetizers they had eaten, and himself on the tongue that was currently trying to brush his tonsils. He shifted a little so Cas was sat more comfortably, his legs hanging out over one of the arms, body leaned against his husband's, arms circling his neck.

"You know," Dean whispered when they finally separated to breathe. "This kinda reminds me of my prom." Cas raised an eyebrow in question. "Me and Rachel Knave… No, wait! That was Sam's prom... Me and Steve Miller under the punch table… while everyone got drunk off their asses. He was my first…" Dean added batting his eyelashes, and deservingly got punched. He laughed. "No, seriously, but you are a better kisser."

"Just kisser?" Cas asked softly.

Um... lem'me see…" Dean stalled. "Um… and then there's that thing you do with your tongue…" he said, nuzzling the neck and roaming his hands all over the body "…and hands… and then there's… Why aren't you hard?" he asked suddenly.

"What?" Cas asked, looking down to where Dean was pawing at his crotch. "Oh!" he said as if he just realized it. "I was dancing with my sisters… I don't think grinding against them with a hard-on was an option." Dean laughed. "Uh… Can I ask you something, Major," he continued hesitantly, his hand trailing down to meet Dean's which had moved up to lie on his stomach and twining their fingers together. "But only if you don't get angry. It's not that I don't want to… it's just…"

"Okay," Dean interjected.

"Can we not have sex tonight?" he asked, still in daze. "It's just I'm very tired… and I know so are you…"

"Okay," Dean replied, a little louder.

"… There's my sister and your son and your brother and his pregnant wife and Dee… and the walls are very thin…"

"Okay," Dean said loudly, knocking their heads together, to get him out of his reverie. "I got it. No sex tonight. We both need to sleep, especially you, because you'll be constantly driving for the next two weeks. Happy?" Cas nodded and sighed, burying his face in his husband's neck, and closed his eyes.

Someone knocked at the door. "If you two are done, there are people out here who actually need the room," a shrill voice shouted.

Dean exhaled with exasperation, "What do you say we blow this joint and have an early night?"

Cas nodded, as the woman outside the door knocked again, angrily. "I know it's you in there, Winchester. If you don't come out right this second, I'll go out and pee on your car," she shouted.

Dean cursed under his breath and yanked the door open, letting her in first – she practically ran to the stall, cradling her stomach – then easing out and closing the door behind them.

-x-x-x-

By the time they returned to the dance floor, the band had already switched to slow waltzes and most of the drunken couples were, more or less supporting each other to keep standing on their feet, swaying together. Cas pointed out an extremely drunk Sam trying to climb into Celine's lap, looking like King Kong had decided to climb on the girl rather the Empire State Building.

Dean smiled and clicked a picture. He would show it to Jess tomorrow.  _Eye for an eye… picture for a picture._

"C'mon," he said turning towards the exit, but Cas reached out and pulled him back, "You still owe me a dance."

"What?" Dean asked, wondering if he had lost his mind.

Cas smiled, his "I know what I'm doing, Trust me" smile. "You told me to save the last dance for you, remember?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief and something else. Dean nodded confused.  _It was a nice song, but he had no idea what Cas was getting at._  Cas smiled, widely now. "Excellent," he muttered, turning back towards the stage.

Dean saw him whisper something to Dick, who looked at him curiously, then at Dean, then back at him and grinned widely, his teeth taking over the bottom half of his face – it was endearing in a creepy sort of way – and nodded and turned to instruct his band.

Cas clapped his hands and turned back to Dean, pulled him to the far corner, away from the crowd and but still close enough that they were actually on the floor. He bent down, his face inches from Dean's and whispered, "Do you trust me?"

Dean nodded, still not sure what was expected of him, when Cas took both of his hands and locked then behind his neck. Dean's eyes widened as he realized what Cas was trying to do. "Are… are you sure?" he whispered back.

Cas nodded. "Trust me, okay. I won't let anything happen to you." Dean whispered a curse as Cas gripped him tightly around the waist and pulled him to his feet, next moment he was pressed flush against Cas, front to front, everything below their necks touching. The grip on his waist tightened into a crushing embrace and he unconsciously tightened his hold around Cas' neck, hugging it.

Cas maneuvered them till Dean was standing slightly taller and broader than him, then still gripping tightly, he put his head in crook of Dean's neck… practically holding him like a large, human sized cuddle bunny… and sighed. "I got you, Major," he murmured, "Just trust me," closing his eyes, and started swaying side to side… not enough to lose their balance… but enough to give it an illusion of dancing. "Relax, Major," he whispered once more, softly kissing the exposed skin directly under his lips.

Dean, much against his will, found himself moving in the same lulling rhythm, and closed his eyes as the faint strains of the song wafted through the air…

" _I'll always remember that magic moment… When I held you close to me…  
As we moved together, I knew forever… You're all I'll ever need…_

_Could I have this dance for the rest of my life… Would you be my partner every night…  
When we're together it feels so right… Could I have this dance for the rest of my life…"_


	14. The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas come to blows on their Honeymoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it seems strange and abrupt, considering there is absolutely no build-up for a fight of this magnitude, but it was a long-time coming. And after 5-6 weeks and about 20 drafts of working on a backstory, where nothing seemed to make sense, I leave to your imagination as to why this escalated this fast. (And no, I don't need theories because there won't be an explanation.) I guess I already explained that there was no way Dean, with his pathological need to prove himself independent, and Cas, with his overprotective nature, would last long on this trip.
> 
> And as to what happened in the bar, my headcanon pretty much says Cas started it and Dean was the one who ended it.

**Chapter 10 A  
**

"What the  _fuck_ was that?" Cas yelled slamming the hotel room door behind him.

"The bastard got what he deserved," Dean yelled back, turning around to face his new husband head-on. It was hardly one week into their 2 week roadtrip/honeymoon and the tempers were already running high.

"That man is in the hospital, Dean," Cas said with much exasperation. "He was threatening to sue."

"My brother is a lawyer," Dean fell back on the usual reply. "I'm not scared of him."

"Your brother…" the strain was visible in the voice "is a corporate lawyer. He has never even set foot in the court." Dean smirked. "You just can't go around beating people up." Cas said the last part with as much exasperation as he could. Truth be told, he was somewhat impressed at the way Dean took on that Terminator of a guy… of course, that was until blood started pouring and the cops arrived.

"I can, if he touches my husband," Dean justified.

"Oh for— for the last time, we were just dancing," Cas repeated, the anger back in his voice.

"You don't need to grope someone's ass to dance," Dean retorted. "Even  _I_  know that."

Cas sighed and lowered his eyes. It was in a way his fault. Well… not really. It was completely Dean's fault. He had been getting a bit too close to that Benny guy since yesterday and Cas just wanted to turn the tables on him. Of course, his luck the half-giant guy he was dancing with decided that it was okay to let his hands wander. "I can take care of myself," he replied angrily.  _He wasn't some damsel in distress, damnit._

"Why don't you just admit you have problem taking help from "that guy in the  _wheelchair_ "?" Dean asked angrily. Cas held his breath.  _Dean heard that,_ he thought.  _That's what this all is about._  He shook his head silently, "That's not—" but Dean kept talking. "Then why is it okay for you to come to my defence every single fucking time, but I can't do the same?"

Cas gulped. He really had no answer for that. "I… I just didn't want you to get hurt," he replied, softly. "Dean, I…" but was again interrupted with an "Ah... Hah. There you go, thank you."

"Dean could you just…"

"No Cas," Dean cut-in before he could even finish the thought. "I don't want you to apologize. I just want stop treating me like a goddamn cripple. I get enough shit on my own without you having to pile up more of it."

"I have never…" Cas started, anger seeping back into his voice, but Dean turned away and stripped off his bloody shirt. Cas flinched seeing the purplish blotches on his torso.  _This_  was why he didn't want Dean fighting. But, of course, Dean wouldn't care about that. "Oh screw you, Dean," he muttered, tears barely stinging his eyes. "Forgive me for not wanting to see you get hurt. I've seen at your worst and I just don't…"

"Damn right. I don't need you to protect me. I can take care of myself," Dean snapped. He was tired of being so dependent on Cas for every little thing... for not being in control of anything around him. He had never felt so helpless as he did right now. Not even when he was tied up on that rack in Hell. And all because of Cas. He should never have agreed to this… this thing.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," Cas gritted. "I should have known I was getting married to a self-centered dickhead."

"Then why did you?" Dean asked angrily. "Oh, wait! Maybe it's because you have an inherent need of being needed. Bloody pathetic Florence Nightingale complex, if you ask me."

"Oh screw you, Dean—" Cas started, but Dean wasn't done yet. "That's exactly what this trip is about, isn't it? What this entire relationship has been about… You trying to  _prove_  how much I depend on you. That I have to keep bearing your presence because you fucking saved my life."

That hurt. More than he would ever admit.  _Dean had no right to stoop that low._  He would've cried if he was the crying kind. Hell, he would've cried if he could show his vulnerable side. He couldn't, so he fell back on the other defence mechanism… anger.

"If you had so many problems, then why the heck did you agree to this trip?" Cas asked. "Hell, the heck did you agree to out with me?"

"That's the thing," Dean replied, his voice eerily calm. He was controlling his breathing, fists tight at his sides, gearing up for that inevitable fight. "I didn't. You were the one who wanted to stay... you were the one who did the pursuing. I just wanted to get laid. How the heck would I know I'd be stuck with some random guy I picked up in a bar?"

"I pulled you out, Dean," Cas said, his voice lowered to a threatening level, his pupils blown to their widest and his temper at its peak. "I didn't have to. I might as well have left you to rot in that hellhole. The least you could do, is show me some resp—"

"Respect?" Dean spat. "You don't respect a stalker. Especially the one who gets off on how good you look half-dead." He knew he wasn't even making sense, but he didn't care anymore.

Cas reared back.  _Dean might as well have slapped him._  "I…" the words failed. "You were…" he didn't know what to say. "You reminded me of home... of Nick..."

"That's another thing," Dean interjected. "Stop comparing me to your brother. I'm not going to be a replacement for him in some sick incestuous fantasies…"

And that was the straw that broke the camel's back. Cas stepped forward and punched him, square in the jaw.  _No one talked about Nick like that._   _NO_.  _ONE_.

As if that was the cue he was waiting for, Dean yanked him down by his collar and hard punch landed on his right jaw. Cas reacted without thinking.  _Wheelchair or not, husband or not… no one had a right to touch him._ Years and years of honed upbringing had ingrained it in him. He pulled his hand back and delivered another punch of his own.

Dean leaped on him, sending him reeling back with Dean on top. He flipped them over, so he was pining Dean down. "You motherfucker," Cas yelled. "How dare…" but Dean just pulled his hand out, throwing Cas off-balance. In the blink of an eye, Dean was on top of him, throwing a punch to his face.

Everything after that was a blur.

**-x-**

A sharp knock on the door, followed by "Police, open up" brought Dean to his senses. He looked down at bluish face of the man he was trying to strangle, his husband, and backed away… scared. Cas coughed and sputtered as the knock sounded again.

"Open up or we're coming in," the voices beyond the door said.

Cas sat up, dizzy from the lack of oxygen and dragged himself towards the door. He pulled it open and collapsed into the hands of the uniformed cop, as another rushed past him to the scared figure on the opposite side of the room.

"Sir… sir, are you alright?" the concerned voice asked, taking in his face. He knew it wasn't a pretty sight. After the bar fight and now, this… he knew he looked very shitty. Same went for Dean.

"Is… is he alright?" Cas heard another, familiar voice speak. Voice of a man he didn't even know anymore.

"No thanks to you, asshole," the cop muttered, hauling Dean to his feet, his hands cuffed behind his back. "Think you're a man, beating up some poor guy in a…"

"I'm not…" Cas stood up, his thoughts back in order. The cop looked incredulously between them, as Dean stumbled back down. The cop caught him in time and lowered him the floor, reaching for his wheelchair. "And I don't want to press charges. You can let him go."

The cop took one look at Dean and reluctantly uncuffed him. Dean immediately sat up, rubbing his wrists, scowling at the room at large.

"Are you sure?" the cop asked skeptically. Judging from the amount of bruises they had suffered, it was looked like one hell of a fight.

"Yeah, I am," Cas replied patiently. "And you…" he turned to Dean his eyes blazing. "You wanted me to stop treating you like a goddamn cripple, FINE!" he spat. "Then pack your own goddamn luggage in the next 15 minutes or I'm leaving without you." Dean nodded. "I'm gonna drop you and your car off, and I'm leaving. We're done."

"Cas, I'm so—" but Cas had walked out of the room to check them out. He returned just as the cops left, paying for the damages and inconvenience they had caused, packed his stuff up and was out the door by the time Dean had finished. He returned, silently carrying Dean's bags out and throwing them in the trunk alongside his, and waited until Dean had settled in the passenger seat to strap the wheelchair up, then settled in the driver's seat, beside the stranger in his husband's skin. "Cas, please… I…" He ignored the man and pulled out of the parking lot.

**-x-**

It was about 3 in the night when they finally reached home. With only a single bathroom break, wherein Cas helped Dean in and out, too hurt and sore to actually go through the notions of taking the wheelchair down and putting it back up, they reached home in record time.  _Google Maps would've been proud._

Cas took down the wheelchair and by the time Dean was settled in it, there were two neat piles of bags ready - Cas' suitcase and a duffel near the open garage door and Dean's already lined up just inside the house entrance.

"Cas…" Dean started, but Cas held up a hand. "I think you can take your stuff inside yourself."

"Cas could you just…" but was cut off once again.

"No Dean," Cas said, his voice grave with just a hint of sadness. Dean knew better than to interrupt when it reached that tone. "I'm done. You were right… what was I thinking? Just because I found some dying stranger and he held onto me in his most desperate time, he would suddenly become my soul-mate. And then expecting you to fall for me, it  _was_  very stalker-ish of me.

And you had already warned me that you weren't into long-term things, I was foolish enough to think otherwise. And it wasn't because I have some kind of Florence Nightangle complex… believe it or not, Dean, there is such a thing as love at first sight, and for me it was you. I just… well, it doesn't matter anymore, does it?"

"Cas, I'm –"

"Could you just stop the fuck interrupting? You're making it harder as it is," Cas said quietly, tears forming in his eyes. He didn't want to go. _He really didn't._  But the past few days had been a revelation of sort. Dean wanted to be independent… he didn't want anyone looking out for him.

"You're not Gabe. You are never going to be him. So stop trying," Dean had yelled the night before, when Cas had suggested they go hiking at the  **Cliff**   **Shelf,**  and this... after they had spent two days hiking along various other trails, instead choosing to spend the day lazing around and drinking with  _Benny._

"I don't want to go. But I can't be in a relationship and have to constantly keep looking over my shoulder and screening every thought and action thinking it might offend you. I have never treated you any differently than I treat anyone else, and if I did it's because I think you're special and not because…" his words were cut-off as a sharp jolt of pain coursed through his left side, where Dean had punched him. He sank down on his knees and calmed himself.

Dean hurried towards him, but Cas pushed him away. "Oh screw you, Dean," he repeated. "I don't need you pity anymore than you deserve mine. It was a fair fight, though you didn't have to hide that you had been training from me. Just proves how much you are invested in this relationship. 6 months we've been living together and you conveniently refused to mention that you've been practicing martial arts. Hell, you even went on to stop practicing because I was around. Thanks for that too. What if you'd been really hurt?"

"But I wasn't," Dean protested petulantly, but Cas ignored him and stood up. "I don't care anymore," he said with a note of finality that sank Dean's heart. They had had fights before, but never one like this. "You wanted to get laid? Well congratulations on your success, Major Winchester. You can now go back your booze and flirting and die of alcohol poisoning for all I care."

He stood back up and glared at Dean, tears pouring down his cheeks. "You are right," he repeated. "You aren't Nick. You can never be him. You aren't half the man he was. My brother is like a God to me... but you wouldn't understand that. You've never been in that kind of situation, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Ever."

He took a deep breath and pulled out the disposable cell Dean had gifted him before their wedding. "You know why I never carried a mobile phone before?" he asked softly fingering the instrument. "Because I never had a reason to look back. With you, I kinda thought I did, but I guess I was wrong. Like always." He threw the phone at Dean's feet. "Good bye, Dean," he muttered, not looking back as he pulled the door shut after him.

Dean waited with bated breath, until the need for oxygen overwhelmed him. He bent down and picked up the symbolic representation of their failed relationship… the one he had actively destroyed in the last 6 days… and threw it as hard as he could at the door his husband had walked out of.

It missed its mark, a testament to how lost he felt, and crashed on the wall beside it, shattering to pieces, just like their marriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering the roadtrip/honeymoon was round-way from **Sioux Falls** to **Mount Rushmore** and back. Also in case you're wondering, **the Badlands National Park** (where the fight took place) has a selection of wheelchair friendly hiking trails which I thought Cas would think perfect for an ex-outdoorsy guy like Dean, without realizing Dean would just see it as one more threat to his masculinity (bloody chauvinist!)


	15. Chapter 15

**Part 10.B**

_It's a dream_ , Dean told himself the moment his thoughts aligned themselves in proper order.  _A weird, horrible dream of Scrooge-sque proportions about what NOT to do on this trip._  It's  _just_  a dream _._

But when he woke up semi-hungover, sore and  _alone,_  in his own childhood bedroom, he knew he had fucked everything up for the second time in his life.  _The first time he had lost Gabe, now…_ Cas _._

He rolled onto his stomach, buried his head in the pillow and let the blackness take over.

**-x-x-x-**

A sharp of burst of the doorbell brought Dean back into the world of the living. He reached out to flip on the night-lamp beside the bed and blinked his eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. The radio-alarm beside the lamp flashed 7.17 PM. He sat up and cradled his head.  _Oh God, kill me…._

The doorbell rang again and Dean looked up confused. Then, as the realisation dawned over him, he reached for his wheelchair. The events of last night made the transition from the bed to the wheelchair a chore, but the pain seemed well-deserved. Another burst, then someone turned a key in the lock.

 _Cas! Oh thank God!_ Dean hastily wheeled himself out and stopped short when he came face to face with Jo.

"Jo? What are you do—" the rest of the sentence was cut off by the hard right hook that landed square on his nose.

 _W'a de—_ Dean reeled back, blood gushing out as the pain exploded in his brain. Then,  _'D'ank_ God _, he's okay'._ Because if Jo was here, beating the crap outta him, then she knew what had happened. Which meant she had seen Cas, which most probably, and hopefully, meant Cas was still at the Roadhouse because there was no way Ellen was letting him leave looking like  _that_.

"W'at aa you doin' 'ere?"

"Your dinner," Jo replied gruffly. "Mom sent it over. And…" she pulled out an orange plastic container with yellow flip-cap from her pocket, "painkillers."

Dean looked up surprised. "I a'eady 'ave painkille's."

"These are better. Apparently the old ones were wreaking havoc on your sleep patterns," Jo explained, handing him a wet napkin.

Dean hoped it was Cas' tutored speech. He gratefully took the proffered napkin and pressed it to his nose. "D'anks," he smiled. "Also, there will be no booze in the house till you get better." That he  _knew_ was Cas' tutored speech. "Okay," he shrugged and went inside to freshen up.

"Is ee okay?" he asked coming back out. He hadn't heard Jo leave, so he assumed she was still there.

"He's not spoken a word since he came in early morning," Jo replied, she was sitting at the dinner table fingering the mouth of the beer she had helped herself to. Everything else – the six pack in the fridge, along with two bottles of Johnny Walker and some the expensive port they had received as a part of wedding gifts – was neatly stacked in front of her. "He just moves around like a robot in trance and keeps staring into distance. It's quite freaky."

Dean nodded, "Thanks for putting him up" and got a glare in return, followed by "He's family."

"Sorry," Dean murmured, going to the fridge and taking out his dinner. "What's this?" he asked wrinkling his nose.

"Food," Jo replied roughly, then abruptly, "Why'd you do it?"

Dean looked at her confused, but she only stared at him. "I…" Dean stammered.  _How could he explain why the last 6 days had occurred?_  "I… don't know," he finally said, looking anywhere but at the girl. "I really don't know what happened, Jo."

Jo nodded. "I should be going," she said, standing up and carefully picking the alcohol. "And you are banned from the Roadhouse till mom says otherwise."

With that she turned around and walked out the same door Dean had seen his life walk out of.

**-x-x-x-**

_He looked as bad as he thought he would_ , Dean thought sitting in front of the large mirror in his bathroom.

The last time he had looked like this was after that fight with Virgil, a few months after he had returned. Everyone had been scared of him and his ability to fight, which is why he had kept it a secret for so long. If the pitiful looks people gave him were bad enough, the averted eyes and looks of downright fear, when they saw this side of him, were worse. He lost himself when he fought… every opponent became Alistair, every victim Gabriel. That's why he never told Cas about the training. He didn't want Cas to see this side of him.

 _It's a little too late for that,_ a voice in his head commented sarcastically. It sounded like horribly like Gabriel, so Dean told him… it… to shut up. He wondered how he would explain anything when he showed up at work tomorrow. He briefly wondered if Cas would be there.

He filled the tub and entered the welcome warmth. He closed his eyes and sank down till his nose was just under the surface. He hoped the pain would go away.

* * *

Balthazar called the next evening after he returned from the garage.

He had gotten strange looks from everyone when he showed up at work almost a week before he was due, but at least they had left him alone. Bobby had just shaken his head and muttered, "idjit" and there was no sign of Cas. Not that it had surprised him.

"Hey Balth," Dean said as cheerfully as he could, cradling the phone between his head and shoulder, struggling to wriggle out of his jeans. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Good," Balthazar replied. "How's Jimmy? I wasn't able to reach his cell."

"Oh... he's good too," Dean heaved a sigh of relief. If Cas hadn't told Balthazar about the fight there was at least some chance for them. "Listen… he's in the shower right now. Should I tell him to call you when he gets out?"

"Don't bother," Balthazar sighed, his voice a little heavy.

"Okay," Dean replied. "Should I tell him to…?"

"Like I said," Balthazar sounded a little angry. "Don't bother. I already talked to him. At the Roadhouse."

"Balthazar," the defeat was prominent in Dean's voice. "Listen, I…"

"It's okay, Dean," Balthazar cut him off once more. "I was expecting something of the sort when Jimmy told me about you. Just not this soon."

"What do you mean you were expecting it?" Dean scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, and slight anger, the task at hand forgotten.

"Oh… please. I know Jimmy more than you do. I raised that git," Balthazar sighed. "He tends to get a little… enthusiastic. And when he told me, about you…" Dean sucked in a breath. "Let's just say, when he started gushing about how independent you were and how good you coped… I knew it would be ending. Badly."

"Then why didn't you try talking him out of it," Dean snapped.

"What makes you think I didn't?"

"What?!"

"You really think I would let him go through the biggest mistake of his life without tryin' to talk  _some_  sense into him. But he just wouldn't listen… you know how he gets when he has his sights set on something."

"Yeah, I do," Dean breathed, still trying to process the conversation. "Then why are you calling me now?"

"Because he wants to  _come_   _home,_  you twat!" Balthazar yelled.

Dean stopped breathing. "He… he what…?" he gulped.

"He called a few minutes ago. Said I was right and that he wants to come back… Home," he finished lamely as the line abruptly went dead.

**-x-x-x-**

Dean had never driven as fast as he was doing right now. He was pretty sure the stupid van would spontaneously combust by the time he reached the Roadhouse.

 _You can't leave me,_ he thought.  _You just can't. Walk out, hit me… anything..._   _just don't leave. Please. I can't lose you. Not again._

Ellen was the first one to spot him. She hurried over to him, anger brimming out of every pore. She loved Dean like a son. But that didn't mean she could forgive him so easily.

"What are you doing here, Dean?" she asked as harshly as she could.  _Jesus!_   _The boy's face looked like a road map._   _Jo had said it was bad, but this…_

"Where's Cas?" Dean asked urgent, wild-eyed.

"Cas? He's not here," Ellen stated. "And I'm not—" she stopped at the look that crossed Dean's face. He looked about to cry, sitting deflated in that chair, looking so lost… even she couldn't keep her anger.

"He's at Ash's," she replied. She was a mother, after all. And loved all her kids, even stubborn dicks like Dean Winchester.

Dean exhaled.  _Ash's… not Canada._  He smiled gratefully and turned around, ignoring Ellen calling out behind him. The drive to Carmen's house was a little slower, relaxed. He even breathed on the way.

He wheeled up to the house and rang the doorbell. Carmen answered.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, keeping her voice low so as to not disturb the baby sleeping upstairs.

"I wanna talk to Cas," Dean whispered.

"What makes you think you deserve it?" she asked, walking out and closing the door behind her.

"Carmen, please. Do you know he's going to—"

"Canada, yes," Carmen nodded. Dean looked at her. "I told him to make the call."

"You what!?" Dean exclaimed loudly. They heard little Elliot start crying, then Cas' soft voice soothing her back to sleep. "Why?" he whispered.

"Because I don't want the poor bastard to go through the same motions I did," Carmen stated angrily.

"What are you talking about? We never fought like this."

"Yes, that's because you didn't think I was important enough to warrant this sort of behaviour," she retorted. "But that's water under the bridge. The point is… you are not capable of having a proper grown-up relationship with  _anyone_."

"That's not true," Dean protested, even though a part of mind agreed.

"Oh… please," Carmen seemed to have heard that part. "The only person you've ever had a decent relationship of any kind was Gabe."

"Me and Gabe, we weren't…"

"Oh God, shut up. Stop talking," Carmen yelled as softly as she could. " _Listen_  to someone for a change. I know you and Gabe never fucked each other…" Dean kept quite at that. "…but that didn't mean that you two weren't fucking co-dependent on each other like two emotionally stunted Oompa Loompas. And the way you two lived in that cocoon of yours…" Carmen trailed off, and took a deep breath. "I know you are not a bad person, Dean. But you are too invested in your past… in Gabriel. And Cas has no chance of competing with that. No one does."

"Are you saying I should just forget about him?" Dean asked incredulously.

"I'm not saying anything," Carmen replied. "Except that you need to get your priorities straight. You can't go around distancing everyone because you're trying to hold onto your past. It doesn't work that way. You  _have_  to let go. And until that happens… I won't let you treat Cas like a doormat with the added blessing of physical abuse. He's better off with his brother."

"You can't decide that for him," Dean protested lamely, knowing he had already lost.

"I can and I did. And he agrees with me," Carmen declared with a firm finality. "Now, if you'll just leave. I have a little girl to feed." With that she went back inside and slammed the door in his face.

Dean stared the door for a minute, then turned around and wheeled towards his car. He looked up at the nursery window and saw his blue-eyed Angel looking down at him, a stoic, undecipherable expression on his face. They maintained eye contact until Cas turned around and disappeared inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it seems a bit abrupt, but it was going to be longer chapter... only the later tone started turning "moral-y and preachy" and took me places I had no intention of going. So, I chucked the whole thing and started afresh. Then Lucifer retired for the day.
> 
> And in case you are wondering - because it's totally irrelevant - Virgil is Lilith's brother. There was a whole back-story of how Dean finds him molesting a girl outside the Roadhouse, just after he returns, and beats the shit out of him and sends him to the hospital. But it seemed unnecessary and couldn't fit anywhere, so I let it be. But I couldn't get it out of my head.


	16. The Reconciliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Presenting "The Reconciliation". Or as I like to call it "Two Emotionally Retarded, Verbally Constipated people have The Talk (more like Shock-Induced Verbal Diarrhoea)"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Keith Urban's ["Tonight I Wanna Cry"](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6PVKwUJdHuw). Please listen to it before you start reading. The events (between last chapter and this one) will make more sense that way.
> 
> [Trigger Warnings ( _Accidental_ OD)]

It was bright. Like someone had trained a spotlight right in his face. Dean groaned, and tried to focus his eyes into the light. He could see someone just beyond it. "Dean?" A far away voice, vaguely familiar, called out his name. "Dean, can you hear me?" the voice sounded close, but not close enough.

Dean blinked his eyes as something soft brushed against his face. Then the voice called his name again. He struggled to place the voice. _Low… husky… familiar…_ "Cas?" he croaked. His voice sounded hoarse.  _God, his throat was on fire._  He coughed and swallowed, trying to soothe the burning. "Cas?" he tried again.  _Just as bad._

"Morning, Major," came the mumbled reply, followed by a soft press of lips at the corner of his mouth – Dean smiled and tasted blood.  _Maybe last night was rougher than he remembered_ , he surmised – then a soft, "I'm going to get the doctor, okay? I'll be right back."

 _Doctor?_  Dean wondered sleepily, turning onto his side. He felt something restraining his movements. He focused his eyes on his arm and saw the leather straps, one at his wrist, the other just above his elbow. His semi-alert eyes followed the transparent plastic pipelets taped to his skin, extending up to the salines mounted on the stand beside his bed.

 _No! No… no… NO!_ His mind immediately sprang to attention,  _It can't be_ , every nerve completely alert.  _He was saved. Cas had got him out. He was free, dammit! This can't be happening._ He pulled at the restraints with all his might. "Cas?" _Where_ was _Cas… what had they done to him? He had to save Cas. Oh God…_ "Cas!" he yelled at the top of his voice, struggling against the bindings. "CAS!"

"Dean?" Cas appeared in the doorway of the room, along with another man. Hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot…

Dean struggled harder. "Dean, stop it!" the man snapped as they both rushed to him.

"Don't pull, I'm here. Calm down." Suddenly he was being pressed down in the bed, a warm body covering his, arms surrounding him. Dean stopped struggling and melted into the embraced. "My Angel," he whispered, trying to get as close as he could to his angel, in spite of the binds. "Calm down, Dean. I'm here… I'm not going anywhere. I got you," the words were whispered into his neck, his hair as warm hands caressed his back… his head... deliberately… soothingly. "Sleep, Major. You're safe," the low voice assured him.

He closed his eyes. "Don't leave me," he begged as the sedatives took over.

* * *

Dean woke up in a hospital room. He blinked his eyes open and took in his surroundings, even as the strong smell of industrial disinfectants hit his nose, rousing him further. He tried to sit up and found his movements restricted, mainly thanks to the fact that his arms were strapped to the bed. Not that it surprised him. They always strapped him down because he always pulled the needles out and was sometimes said to fight them off on pure muscle memory.  _The Million Dollar Question was, 'Why was he in a friggin hospital'?_

"Winchester, I see you've finally decided to grace us with your presence," a scrubs clad man entered the room and started hovering around him, a clipboard in the hand.

"Carl!"  _Finally, someone who could give him some answers._  "Why the fuck am I—" he stopped short as a few images fluttered through his mind – the fight, the phone call, the visit to Carmen's, sitting in their room surrounded by empty bottles and Cas' pictures… He slammed his head into the pillow. "Please tell me I was in a car accident or something," he said.

"You were in a car accident or something," Dr. Robinson repeated unhumourously, checking his vitals. "All normal," he declared, raising Dean to sitting position. "You won't punch me, or throttle me, if I release you, right?" he asked skeptically.

Dean looked down at his hands and shook his head. "Good," Carl replied, undoing his straps. "Thanks," Dean rubbed his wrists. The bruises were starting to show. "Can I get water or something? My throat's on fire."

"I'm not your personal maid, Winchester," the doctor said under his breath, but loud enough for him to hear, nevertheless retrieving a glass with a straw from the side table and holding it to his lips.

"Thanks, Nerd," Dean smiled, gulping down as much as he could.

"Apparently, you took the break-up harder than intended," the doctor replied in response to his earlier question.

"Bloody Lani McKenzie*," Dean cursed under his breath as something clicked. "This wasn't Cas' fault," he clarified, defending his ex?-husband. He didn't want anyone blaming Cas for  _his_  stupidity.

"Never said it was. We all know you too well," the doctor replied placidly. "But he's been beating himself over the head since they brought you in yesterday morning."

 _Yesterday morning?_  Dean gulped. "Where's Cas?"

"Outside pacing the floor," Carl replied. "Figured I'd give you couple of minutes before he starts rending you limb for limb."

Dean swore. "They called Sammy yet?"

"Castiel did after they got you in," Carl replied. "And…?" Dean asked hesitantly. "Do I look like a bloody messenger? Ask him," the doctor waved in direction of the door. "Do you want me call him?"

Dean nodded, and found to his annoyance that the doctor had already left without waiting for his answer.

-x-x-x-

"Hello Dean," Cas greeted from the doorway, wearily entering the room and shutting the door behind him.

Dean almost did a double take as Cas trudged up to the bed and stood before him, lost…scared. Dark circles under the eyes that seemed to have lost their usual spark, the five-eye o'clock shadow gracing his face, his shoulders drooped as if the weight of the world had fallen on them... Dean hated himself for doing this to him.

He extended his arms in invitation and Cas slipped into his embrace without a preamble, holding him for all he was worth.

"Hey, Cas," Dean whispered softly into his hair, not wanting to break whatever tentative thing that remained between them.

"You scared me," Cas said, finally pulling back and looking into his eyes. "I was so scared that I'd lost you…"

"I'm sorry," Dean replied, his voice a little stronger. "I'm fine. More than fine. See?" he spread his arms and smiled.

Cas nodded, a short firm nod, then scooted back increasing the distance between them. "What happened?" he asked, his voice crisp… hard.

"Cas… I…" Dean stumbled for an answer. Hell, he had no answer.  _What_ could _he say?_  "It was an accident," he finally replied, not looking at his husband, and realized how wrong the words were as soon as they left his mouth.

"You mean, you  _accidently_  OD'd," Cas snapped, standing up to stare down at him. "This is not the first time it has happened, has it?" Dean looked up at him, fear clouding his eyes. "I talked to Dr. Robinson."

"Cas, I wanted to te—"

"What?" Cas cut in, harshly. "Tell me you used to down sleeping pills like candy-corn?" Dean blanched. "You knew. You knew how I lost Meg… and you still… I found you, Dean. Lying there, spewing blood…" Dean hung his head down. "You had no right to do that. No fucking right to do that to me, you fucking piece of shit."

"Cas, I'm sorry," he mumbled. Cas ignored him to pace around the room. "Cas, come here," Dean reached forward, extending his arm.

Cas stopped and looked at Dean. "Fuck you. I'll kill you myself."

"Cas, babe, come here," Dean repeated softly, moving forward. "Please."

Cas took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then walked over to perch next to him on the bed. "Why?" he pleaded. "How long?"

"I don't…" Dean shook his head. "Ever since I got back," he answered truthfully. "I couldn't sleep. The nightmares were too much. But the pills didn't really work… my body has learnt to fight it off, I guess. So I started taking more than prescribed and drowning it with whatever I could find.  _This_  happened a couple of times, so I gave them up. Figured a few nightmares were better than having everyone go through…" he waved his hands around, "this. Then you came and well… I didn't want you to know," he smiled softly. "But that night, I guess I just wanted to forget everything for a while… Cas, I'm sorry," he repeated quietly. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's my fault," Cas shook his head. "I should've known…"

"It's not your fault," Dean said firmly. "You didn't know because I didn't want you to know. I didn't want you to see me like this… see any of this. And I don't want you blaming yourself, okay?"

Cas opened his mouth to protest, when the door creaked open and Ellen walked in, her face a mixture of anger and concern.

"You scared us, you asshole," she said by the way of greeting, as Bobby followed her and shut the door behind them. " _What_  in the cold hell were you  _thinking_ , boy?" were the first words that left his mouth.

"Hey Bobby, Ellen," Dean greeted, nodding to each of them, then tuned out. He already knew this speech by heart.

* * *

"So…" Dean said quietly, breaking the silence. "When are you leaving?"

"Leaving?" Cas asked confused, tearing his eyes away from the rippling water to look at his husband.

It had been three hours since Dean was discharged after his 2 day stint, and the last thing they both wanted to do was go home. Instead, Cas had driven them to their pond, and switched off Dean's phone, so no one could disturb them. And now that they were settled on the hood, watching the soft ripples and listening to the silent sounds of the night, Dean had finally decided to bring up the issue that was on his mind since yesterday.

"Well, you  _are_  still going, aren't you?" Dean asked.  _He wanted Cas to stay back, but not now... not like this… out of obligation or pity._

"I'm not going anywhere," Cas replied, wide-eyed. "I can't leave you like this."

Dean groaned. "Cas… I know it was some weird half-assed plan to make me see the light, but seriously…you'd be better off with your family. I wouldn't blame you if you decided to leave."

"You. Are. Incorrigible," Cas got down to stand in front of Dean, a finger pointed accusingly at him. "Inane, insane, daft and every other synonym for stupid I can think of. If you want to end us, the least you can do is be honest about it."

"Cas, that's not what I'm…" Dean protested, ignoring the pleas of his own heart. It was like waddling against the current, without really wanting to. He wanted nothing better than to close his eyes and let go, but he couldn't help but think that Cas deserved better. The last few days had been a revelation of sort.

"No?" Cas faced him, pupils dilated, hands curled into fists. "So what exactly are you saying? I should go away because I wouldn't want to stay with you. And who the fuck may I ask gave you the right to make that decision for me? Not even my  _brother_  has any say in who I choose to spend my life with. And you really  _really_  think I'd have gone through the whole nine yards if I didn't want to stick around? What's next? Get pregnant and haggle over alimony? Who  _the fuck…"_

"Stop it, alright," Dean shouted, desperate to get a word in. "I never said that. Never! I know you. I know you love me, and I love you too. Which is why I don't…" he took a deep breath. "I don't…"

"Don't what?"

"I don't want you bloody wasting your life here, dammit!" he yelled. "I don't know why you want to stay in this Bumfuck, Nowhere, working as a mediocre mechanic, and playing house with an ex-vet on a disability pension, when you can go anywhere you want and be with anyone you want. You need a place to rest your legs, and home to come back to, you got it. But you don't have to stay here like a fucking martyr. Hell, _the only reason_  I live here is because I  _have_  no other choice. Do you have any idea  _how much_  I had to fight with Sam to move out of his place? And he allowed it only because I agreed to come back  _here_."

"What are you talking about?" Cas asked, stopping in front of him.

"Sure, I  _lived_  alone," Dean replied "But Jo was always coming around. Carmen did all my shopping… I work at my Godfather's Garage… I know all these people and they all know me. Or they think they do. You used to like this… you used to do that. Used to… but I can't anymore because I'm stuck in this...  _thing_ ," he gestured at his wheelchair. "And I fucking  _hate_  everyone for reminding me of that everyday. I hate the way they look at me with damn pity in their eyes... the way they go out of their way to  _reintegrate_  me into the society. I don't want to be treated like a fucking celebrity for getting tortured by a psychopath and I fucking certainly wasn't thinking of  _making_   _Sioux Falls, South Dakota, proud_ when Alistair was using my ass as a whetstone." He sighed in defeat. "I'm tired, Cas… Tired of faking it. Tired of ignoring the way people look at me. Tired of acting happy and careless all the fucking time, because I don't want to hurt some poor soul who's trying to cheer me up. Tired of pretending it's alright."

"Then why  _do_  you?" Cas asked, coming to sit beside him.

"Because they won't leave me the fuck alone," Dean yelled in exasperation. " _Stop moping around, Dean. It's not like your life's over, Dean… There are plenty of handicapped people who live their lives happily, Dean…_ They want to see the old Dean, because they feel sorry for the new one. But it should on their terms. I have to smile when they want to cheer me up. I have to let them fuss over me when they want to… I'm a bloody social cause for them. And I can't even complain without coming across as an ungrateful dickhead. It's like I have to fit into their ideas of what an archetypical ex-Golden Boy handicapped should be…"

"It's been like this all my life," he added quietly. He had never told anyone about this, but for once he didn't care. He had to say something, the weight of everything was suffocating him. "My dad expected me to be this perfect son and take over the family business… Sammy expected me to be the mother he never knew… Carmen expected me to be the perfect boyfriend every girl wanted… everyone else expected me to be the token Golden boy. Gabe was the only who ever understood. The only one who didn't have any expectations of me, the only one with whom I didn't have to pretend," Dean looked at his husband, tears welling in his eyes. Then he looked away. "I always thought leaving this podunk town would be an answer to everything. I asked Gabe to come along, knowing he could never say no to me. He  _died_  because I was too selfish to leave him alone. He gave up everything for me and I couldn't even keep him alive."

"That wasn't your fault, Dean," Cas protested, not sure if it would be heard. It wasn't.

"Now he's gone and I'm back here. Trapped in this godforsaken fucking Groundhog's Day of a life, with no room to escape. It's like I'm back on the rack. Every damn day I just… just wait for it get over so I can forget everything for a few moments. Then it starts all over again. I'm… I feel suffocated, Cas." Cas jerked at his name. He wasn't sure of Dean was even aware of him anymore. "Sometimes… sometimes I wish it would have been better if…" he sniffed and tried to blink away his tears. "…better if I hadn't returned. Dying would've been better than living like this."

"Dean," Cas whispered, drawing him close. "You don't mean that."

Dean sniffed again. "And then there's you."

"What about me?"

"You…" Dean muttered, not sure what he wanted to say. "Before you came, I'd made peace with everything… accepted that it wouldn't get any better. But you… you changed all that. You showed me that there's something out there for someone like me, that maybe… just maybe… and I was selfish. I asked you to marry me because I never wanted you to leave, because I didn't want to be alone anymore. But I'm wrong. You don't belong here. I saw you on the roads… flying free. That's where you belong. With others who can give you that freedom. Not someone like me. I can't… I can't keep you tied to myself. You are an angel, Cas… and I'm… I'm sorry Cas, but you have to go."

"Dean," Cas pulled away and jumped down to stand in front of him once again. "Do you really want me to leave?" he asked quietly, cupping Dean's cheeks between his hands and forcing him to hold the gaze. "If you really want me to go, I'll leave and never look back. All you have to do is say the word. Do you  _really_  want me to go?"

Dean looked at him, searchingly, then closed his eyes and sighed. "No, I don't," he breathed. "But if you stay here… even you'll start feeling trapped. Not today, not tomorrow, but someday. And then you'll hate me. I couldn't live with knowing that you hate me. I'll die, Cas… I don't know how I'll survive if you ever hate…"

The rest of the sentence was cut off, as Cas pressed their lips together, his tongue seeking permission to claim its right. It took time, between Dean's quiet sobs and half-hearted reluctance but the lips parted and Cas pulled his husband, his Major, to him. He kept kissing… reassuring… till the urgent need for oxygen forced them to part. He pulled back to see Dean's face, his eyes tightly shut but the adamant tears still finding their way down his stained cheeks.

"Dean," he called softly, not wanting to break the spell. "Look at me." He repeated it a little louder and found the compliance. He smiled and kissed his husband once more, chastely, then pressed his forehead against Dean's. "I'm never going to hate you," he said firmly. "You didn't get me here, you didn't force to give everything up… I'm doing this because I want to do this. How many times have I told you, 'I don't do anything I don't want to'?"

He smiled at Dean's mumbled reply. "And Gabe didn't die because of you. He died because of that sadistic psychopath. I'm pretty sure he'd agree with me if he were here. It wasn't your fault. You have to stop blaming yourself. It's not gonna bring him back."

"No. It isn't," Dean agreed softly. "But I can't forget him. I'm all he had. If I forget…"

"No one's asking you to," Cas chastised, but there was no harshness in his voice. "But you can't keep living like you expect him to walk in through the door any second. Gabe's gone and he's not going to come back. No matter how hard you wish for it. I'm not asking you to move on. There is no moving on for people like us. But you can't keep pushing people away."

"I'm not…" Dean protested.

"Not consciously, but you are," Cas interjected. "You are still grieving, Dean. I'm not the one to judge. I followed you out here because I thought I could find Nick. It took me 12 years and one  _amazing_  man to realize that he is gone. I don't compare you with him anymore, because you're not him. You are you. Just like I'm not Gabriel. I'm me. And  _I_  love  _you_. That's that."

Dean smiled softly. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Cas gifted him a smile of his own. "But I'm not going keep paddling this canoe by myself. We're partners and this is an equal partnership and I expect you to man up and step up to the plate."

"You know…" Dean couldn't help himself. He buried his fingers in his over-wise husband's hair and pulled their faces closer. "You are adorably charming when you mix analogies."

"I can have oodles of charm when I want to," Cas agreed haughtily.

Dean gasped and pulled back. "Did you just throw Vonnegut** in my face?"

"I… may have done something to that effect, yes," Cas replied coyly. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"What  _do_  you want me to about it?" Dean teased, cocking an eyebrow.

In reply, Cas pulled Dean's legs up to wrap around his waist and wrapped his arms around Dean's neck. "You  _could_  take me home and teach me a lesson," he whispered suggestively, pressing their lips together.

* * *

Dean woke up in the backseat of his car, to find himself lying half on top of Cas, drooling over his chest. Their clothes lay scattered at their feet. He sat back and stretched as far as he could without waking his sleeping Angel, really grateful that the car had a heater and no one came to this spot. Next time, though, he would have the foresight to bring a blanket or something.

He thought back to last evening, when he had in fit of emotion opened the darkest corners of his heart to Cas. He hadn't wanted anyone to see that side of him, but Cas was more important than his pride. If Cas wanted to go, it would be on his own terms. He promised himself that he would never push Cas away again, no matter what.

 _Maybe,_ he decided _, I'm finally ready to move on._

Beside him, Cas mumbled in his sleep, the way he usually did, shifting uneasily to find a more comfortable position.

Dean moved back to slip a hand under Cas, pulling him on top. Almost immediately, Cas slotted himself against him, his face in the crook of Dean's neck, an arm and a leg thrown possessively over him and nuzzled his ear. He smiled to himself and kissed the dark curls, then closed his eyes… finally at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * **Lani McKenzie** is Carmen Electra's character in **_Baywatch_**. And while I haven't watched Baywatch, so can't much about the character as such, I don't really expect her to be a rocket-scientist. My earlier drafts had Gabe nicknaming Carmen after her namesake because she was a totally birdbrained girly-girl.
> 
> **Cas' quote is taken from **Kurt Vonnegut's** _Breakfast of Champions._


	17. Pre-Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just a setting up for the Epilogue.

After returning from his stint at the hospital, Dean decided that enough was enough. If Cas didn't want to give up on him, he sure as hell wasn't going to give up on himself. So he slowly and surely set about getting his life back on the tracks.

First and foremost, he decided was time to stop trying too hard.  _No more trying to please everybody, no pretending._  He was going to do exactly what he should've done a long time ago… what Gabe had always encouraged him to do. Not exactly the way Gabe would've put it, but he slowly and systematically tried to make people understand that he didn't like it when they butted in his business. There was only person he held himself accountable to, and that person was Cas.

Sam was not pleased, neither was Adam… nor Jo. But Jessica managed to reign in both her husband and her brother – Dean knew there was a reason he had told Sam to marry her – and Ellen screamed at Jo until she accepted it.

But he didn't realize just how much he wanted to change… he needed to change, to be the old Dean in a whole new way… until Cas asked to "borrow" one of Bobby's better campers to drive them to California for Johnny's birth.

"C'mon Major, it'll be fun," Cas whined trying to press him into the sofa and straddling him.

"You said that last time, too, remember?" Dean reminded him. "And we both know how that turned out."

They were both silent for a minute before Cas leant in closer. "Please," he mumbled petulantly, nibbling his ear. "It will be different, I promise."

The rest of Dean's half-hearted protests that he wasn't ready to go on yet another road-trip were cut short by Cas' talented mouth and hands, until Dean all but yelled his assent over and over and over. Cas basked in his glory, only long enough till Dean caught his breath flipped them over and proceeded to show Cas just how much he hated being taken advantage of like that.

"I might need to borrow your wheelchair tomorrow," Cas muttered, trying to glare angrily at his husband, rubbing his sore ass.

Dean grinned. "Or you can just sit in my lap," he cheeked and got a tight slap against his chest, before Cas snuggled into it.

"So… is that a yes?" Cas asked softly.

Dean hummed in response, "Only if I drive," he added kissing the dark curls.

Cas was silent for a long time. So long in fact that Dean was afraid he would definitely reject, when, suddenly, he spoke up, "Only as long as you don't over-exert yourself."

Dean gave a loud whoop and drew himself up for Round Two.

* * *

So Dean drove them to California. Cas navigated and learnt that "driver chooses the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole".

"But you always choose the music when I drive," he pointed out.

"That's coz it's ma Baby," Dean grinned. "Besides DADT."

"You're going to pay hell for that, Winchester," Cas grumbled, but Dean just continued to beat drums on the steering wheel… and look smug.

They ate lots of greasy fried food, stopped at a cheap motel for the night and reached California in 2 days instead of the usual one-and-a-few-hours.

Dean blamed the Camper for being too slow, but Cas wouldn't have cared either way. He was too happy.

As Dean looked at the widely open grin and the way those blue orbs shone with pure unbridled  _joy_ , he made a decision. If Cas wanted to go on crazy road-trips with his Major, he  _would_ go on crazy road-trips with his Major.

* * *

Jessica's water broke during dinner on their 3rd day. Claire stayed behind with Dee, while Sam, Dean, Cas and Adam rushed Jess to the hospital. 2 hours later, Adam was called for an emergency of his own and, 15 mins after that, Jess' doctor called Cas in "to hold her hand", as they put it.

Dean cleverly tried to soothe his baby brother. He had missed Dee's birth because he was in coma at the time, but he knew that his condition and Dee's complicated birth had his brother up the wall. That… coupled with his intense dislike for hospitals and he had never fully recovered. He just prayed there would be no complications this time.

After 13 hours of agonal waiting and pacing and freaking out and pacing, John Nicholas Winchester was born at 7 pounds and 3 ounces, with brown hair and bright green eyes – a typical Winchester male. Jessica claimed that he had Adam's – her dad's – nose and, if you squinted just right, Cas' mischievous smile. Combine all that, and it made John the most perfect kid to ever be born.

Later, looking at the bundle of joy as Cas cradled  _their_  godson in the crook his arm and cooed at him, their dark heads resting together, identical smiles lighting up the room, Dean couldn't help but agree. He also couldn't fight a faint thought of how  _good_  Cas looked and how _right_  it felt.

When Cas came out in scrubs, looking deliriously happy and announced that mother and son were sleeping and Sam could go in if he wanted, Dean was stuck by just how perfectly at home Cas looked in this atmosphere as opposed to the redneck jumble of their garage.

"Major, you awake," Cas whispered quietly that night. Sam was still at the hospital with Jess and the baby, and they were staying with Dee, who was currently sleeping in the next room. Claire had gone back to her flat, Adam to his.

"Yeah," Dean replied, opening his eyes and turning around to face him. "You're thinking about going back to school, aren't you?"

"How…?" Cas gaped, then let it go. He would never understand Dean's mind freak mojo thing. Maybe he really was  _'Professor X'_  in disguise. "Yeah," he answered. "What do you think? Should I?" he asked nervously.

"I've been waiting for you to bring it up for a while now," Dean replied with a smile. If by "a while", he meant exactly 5 hours, Cas didn't have to know.

Cas relaxed and snuggled in closer, "Thanks."

-x-x-x-

Next day, they took Dee to meet her new baby brother. And watching his younger brother and his wife with their kids laughing and talking and generally being the bullshit example of a suburban apple-pie family, brought a pang to his chest. He watched Cas looking longingly at the happy unit and knew he too was thinking along the same lines. They wanted too wanted kids of their own.

The thought was extremely abrupt and shocking to say the least. Like a thunder bolt straight out of the sky.

Dean had done a half-decent with Sam and somewhat even better with Adam. And he was more or less long-distance raising Dee too, so he had no doubts that he was a good father material. And he had seen Cas with Elliot enough times to know that Cas was as maternal as him, if not more.

But for the all the love he had for babies, he had never actually thought about having children of his own. He had always thought of himself as "The Cool Uncle" who everyone turned to when they had had enough of their "boring and stuffy" parents. He really was fine with the idea - all the pluses of having kids, without actually having to face the minuses.

But now, he wanted those minuses too. He wanted a little person who depended on them. He wanted to be there for first smile, first laugh, first word, first step… and all those recorded moments that Sam and Jess and Ash and Carmen couldn't stop talking about. He wanted those recorded moments of him and Cas… and their kid, together.

He tapped Cas on the arm and motioned him to silently back out. Cas nodded and followed him to the Waiting Room.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Cas asked keeping his voice low, taking a seat on the uncomfortable sofa.

"Are you?" Dean asked, coming to stand directly in front of him.

Cas shrugged. "I always wanted kids, even when I was a little."

Dean nodded. He had heard from Balthazar how domestic and nurturing Cas was, even as a child. "Some day," he said quietly. "When we're both ready."

Cas smiled and kissed him. "Someday," he promised.


	18. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go! We're finally at the end of the road. Thanks to all those who have supported me and stayed with me, till the world stopped turning and the storm was through.

_"I'm dreaming... of a white Christmas_  
Just like the ones I used to know...  
Where the treetops glisten, and children listen  
To hear sleigh bells in the snow..."

Dean Martin Winchester took a long  _long_  sip of his bourbon and licked his lips clean, not taking eyes off the tantalizing movements of the narrow shapely ass, moving to the soft low rhythm of his namesake's classic Christmas song. The golden drink travelled all the down from his throat down to his stomach, warming his insides...

Presently, the movements stopped as the owner turned around, presenting him with a well-endowed tent in the faded denims. "What are you staring at?" the tone was half-heartedly rebuking.

"Your ass," Dean replied cheekily, finishing his drink in one last gulp. Green eyes caught the amused blue ones through the crystal of his glass sparkling in the glow of crackling flames. "Com'ere," he added in a deep voice.

The man grinned and walked closer, bending down to peck his husband lightly on the lips. Dean circled his arms around the brunette, his glass pressed into the small of the other's back, the free hand entangled in the dark hair, and pulled him closer, opening his mouth in invitation.

The brunette compiled, slipping down on his knees, holding the handle bars, and deepening the kiss. The angle was very awkward and the balance precarious, but after 7 years of marriage, it was as normal to them as breathing. Dean pulled back, panting slightly, and smiled. "Hi."

The red lips grinned, as the pale forehead pressed into the tan one. "Hey."

"God, Cas," Dean replied, pressing the lips to peck softly. "I missed you."

Cas harrumphed. "Married people with children…" he mumbled, reluctantly standing up and taking the glass away "…have no sex life to boast of. We had been warned about that."

Dean grinned. "Speaking of… she's asleep. You wanna…" the remaining were cut of by the lips crashing into his, as he suddenly found himself collapsing on top of his husband, their tongues meeting in a frantic dance of dominance.

"Wouldn't… wiser… bedroom…" Cas' whispered words were punctuated with kisses, as Dean snaked a hand between them, somehow managing to pull down his fly, and reaching inside his boxers.

"No… time…" Dean muttered, giving a particularly hard jerk to his cock. Cas gasped,  _it had been far too long_ … "Need you Cas… now…" the last word was a pleading, that almost broke Cas' resolve.  _Almost_.

"Bed," Cas repeated, pushing Dean off. "Can't risk Emma walking in."

Dean groaned in disappointment and pulled his hand back. "Alright," he mumbled, pressing one last kiss into his husband's lips, and rolled onto his back, breathing heavily, as Cas reached down and pulled his fly up.

Not a moment too soon, as a little figure in bright red shoulder length curls wearing a pale pink night-gown appeared in the kitchen doorway, sleepily rubbing her eyes.

"Muhm, iz Uncuh Ash he'e ye'?" the tiny sleepy voice asked, ambling towards Cas.

"Uncle Ash?" Cas asked incredulously as he stood and scooped his daughter up. Beside him Dean banged his head on the handle of his wheelchair, then pulled himself up.

"Yea," Emma mumbled, her arms circling her "mum's" neck. "El sayhed he dhresh az a big fa' ma'hn in reh dhresh an' leev prezen unduh de giftin' trhee," she explained sincerely. "Iz he he'e wi' my prezen?"

"He won't come until midnight, sweetheart," Cas replied, patting down the red curls. "You can go back to sleep… I'll tell you when he comes."

"Nuh…uh," the negative reply was punctuated by a definite shake of her head. "El sayhed I 'ave to stay up and wai' fo him o' he won' geev my prezen…  _and_  ea' all de cookiez," was added in a sacrilegious whisper.

 _Fucking Elliot Porter,_  Cas thought,  _always making my life difficult,_  as Dean snorted – Cas glared at him over their daughter's head – then extended his arms indicating he wanted her.

"I promise I won't let him eat the cookies," Cas stuck his tongue out at Dean when she burrowed in further into his shoulder. It had been almost a year since Emma had become a permanent in their lives, but they still couldn't get enough of her. "And we already have other presents under the tree. Why don't you open one of them, then go back to bed?" he offered. "You can collect your gift from Uncle Ash tomorrow."

Emma pulled back and blinked at him, as if trying to make sense of his words, then pressed her head into his neck again and nodded.

"Excellent," Cas breathed, as he carefully eased the five year old into his husband's lap, where she promptly curled up, back against one of the arm-rests, feet pushing into the other, one hand securely fisting into his shirt. "You both go ahead, I'll make some hot chocolate for us." He bent down to kiss his Princess' forehead, then followed it up with one to his King. "Go forth, my mighty warrior," he waved dramatically, as Dean turned around, mock saluted his Queen, and he spurred his silver stallion towards the Gifting Tree.

Cas smiled after them, put milk to boil and went back to clearing the kitchen, wondering if there could be such a thing as too much Elliot Porter.

* * *

It was a few days before Christmas two years ago, that the topic of starting a family first came up. In a rare occasion, everyone had flocked over to Sioux Falls for the holidays – Sam with his family, Celine and the kids, Claire with her husband, Alf, and their one-year old, Jason. Even Adam had taken a few days off to come down, much to Cas' joy.

After their less than amicable break-up – Claire had left him for her childhood best friend – Adam had started pushing himself into his work, distancing from everyone else, not comfortable with the general idea of being around his "lying, cheating bitch" of an ex. This had inadvertently put a strain on Dean and Cas' relationship, until finally Adam had taken the high road and extended a tentative olive branch towards both Claire and Alfie. And a few days ago, he informed them that he had started seeing a fellow resident, Rebecca Flannigan, but it was far too early to introduce her to the family just yet.

They were all sitting in the Roadhouse drinking beer and bullshitting, while the children played outside, when Mark – Jo's idiot boyfriend whom Dean hated on principle because he was a Campbell – offhandedly commented about lack of Dean's children in the group. Dean initially ignored the comment because it was  _Mark_   _Campbell_  who said it, but this was the first time in almost five years that he saw the look of longing on Cas' face.

"You think we are ready?" Cas asked that night, tracing patterns on his chest.

Dean looked at him. Cas had finished with his Nursing Degree last year and his internship at the Sioux Falls General was almost over. They had even offered him a permanent position. And with Bobby planning to hand over the reigns to Dean, to become a grouchy old drunk and scream at kids from his front porch, Dean was free to become a "Work-from-Home Dad" if needed. Besides, all the cousins were at an age where they would easily adjust to a new addition in the family. The more he thought about it, the more sure he was. "I think we are," he smiled.

"Oh? Good. I was uh… thinking…" Cas stuttered unsurely, "that we could… uh… match your sperms with... um… Claire's eggs… Carmen offered to uh… surrogate…"

"No," Dean cut in firmly. Cas looked at him confused. "But I thought…"

"I do want kids," Dean said, "but we  _both_  know you've always wanted to adopt someone from the foster care. Did someone put you up to this?"

"No… I uh... thought…" he deflated and relaxed in his husband's arms. "I do want to adopt a kid. There are so many out there who need parents…"

Dean nodded and cut him off with a kiss. "We'll talk about it tomorrow," he finished with a promise.

-x-x-x-

Few days later, in the first week of the promising New Year, Cas them signed up for the "Adoption PRIDE (Parent Resources for Information, Development and Education)" at his hospital. Dean grumbled at first, saying they didn't need tips in parenting, they had more than enough on-hands experience than half the idiots who  _sprouted_  those kids, but Cas insisted it was a necessity. So he went.

What followed was about six months of orientations, interviews, meetings with social workers – the one assigned to them, Cassie, happened to be one of Dean's exes – visits from all kinds of officers who wanted to ensure they were capable of raising children.

They had some doubts about the background checks, as criminal records of immediate family members were also taken into consideration. But since the  _criminal_  side of Cas' family were all dead – Balthazar was really glad, for once, that he wasn't related to Cas' by blood – it wouldn't really matter they were assured.

What followed was an ardent wait to be matched with a child. "If there's a time to abuse your unwanted status as a celebrity," Balthazar teased, "this is it". But it was slow, uphill battle. Most orphanages prioritized straight couples, as opposed to single gay men – they had been informed that couldn't adopt as a couple, so Cassie had suggested that Castiel adopt the kid first, then Dean could file for a second parent adoption. It raised some hackles, but…

"That's how it's done. No one's going to change the law for you," Cassie snapped.

-x-x-x-

It was Sheriff Jody who first brought their attention to Emma, when she escorted a mute 4-year old to the hospital for her regular check-up. She waited outside with Cas, who was on break at the time, while an elderly nurse, Esther, took the girl inside.

The violent screams coming from the room had them running towards it, only to find the kid on the floor, in her underwear, screaming for all she was worth, while Esther stood aghast clutching at the tiny dress. Further inspection, this time after sedating her, showed that she was covered multitude of scars – fading cuts and bruises, burn marks, healed scratches. She also had a sigil branded into her left forearm, that had Cas ranting and raving for days afterwards.

Her story was simple really. They were informed "in strictest confidence, of course, because I trust you", that Emma's mother had been a part of a high profile sex trafficking/extortion ring working out of Seattle, with a couple of murders to her name - currently in serving 30 to Life in WCC - and Emma had been placed in Sioux Falls as a part of WitSec along with a few other rescuees.

It had taken exactly five hours, about the time it took for the sedatives to wear off, for Cas to fall in love with her and Dean the next day, when they visited her at the orphanage she was currently staying in.

It was Dean who figured out that the girl was haphephobic (phobia of being touched) – understandable, since she was severely abused and hence, naturally apprehensive – and extremely terrified of women, esp. the older ones. That mystery was solved when Ash identified the sigil (broke into the 6 different Fed databases and hunted through 40 years worth of info) as a symbol of a Greek-Orthodox feminist convent that had headed the Ring. All the evidences pointed to the fact that Emma was in fact tortured by matronly women, and as such the court appointed psychiatrist assessing her recommended that "for the bettering of her mental health, it will be beneficial for the child to be raised in a women-free environment… at least for the time being" albeit in a lot more complicated words that Dean would've cared less for.

It was Cassie – Dean still takes credit for this because she was his girlfriend first – who convinced others to consider them as an option. "They are two gay guys married to each other. And c'mon! It's the Winchesters... we  _know_  them. They are more capable of dealing with this level of PTSD than any  _professional_  in the area."

Even then, it had taken a few months of convincing and pleading, meeting with social workers, court hearings, and pointing out the utter incompetence of court allotted psycho-therapists, which Cas was more than happy to do (possibly even looked forward to), to decide that for it would be in best interests of the girl to be sent to the Winchester household.

The major bone of contention… or rather the only bone of contention… while filling her papers was her name. She had been given the name "Emma" by the DoJ, and they both hated it. Since she was too young, and not really used to it, it was decided that they would change it. And therein lay the problem – Cas wanted Gabriella in honour of Gabe and Dean wanted Merida because of her untamable fiery red hair.

"What's with your obsession of Disney princesses?" Cas had yelled, while Dean cribbed about "She's a kid, not a mausoleum. Don't we have enough kids named after dead people already?"

Finally, after much argument where both refused to back down, and two weeks of sleeping in different rooms, Ellen suggested a compromise and thus, Emma Gabriella Merida Novak-Winchester was welcomed as the newest member of the Novak-Winchester clan.

-x-x-x—x-x-x-

The first few months were a constant hell for them, with Emma refusing to eat or even sleep. She was mute outside of terrified screams when someone came too close to her – the only exception being Dean because he stayed with her the whole day.

The first time she came to Cas by herself, 3 months after they got her home, on his day off, when he fell asleep on the living room couch, a book in his lap and TV blasting in the front, and woke to find a very sleepy redhead – who he had tucked in bed not half an hour ago – trying to climb into his lap, he cried, "like a little girl" as Dean teased him later.

After that Dean moved back in their bedroom – he had taken to sleeping with her because she woke up during the nights, screaming… scared out of her mind – and brought her to bed with them.

The other exception was Elliot Porter who she took to like tick to a warm hide, attaching herself firmly to the older girl's belt and following her blindly. The fact that she didn't talk was perfectly fine with Elliot who more than made up the difference with her constant chattering.

"If I didn't know my daughter better," Carmen once said rocking her newborn, Jack, to sleep, "I'd say that they were in danger of becoming the next generation WinCollins."

They had to agree. Elliot was doing a way better of job of getting their daughter out of her shell… even going to the extent of sitting for her weekend sign language tutorials  _and_  making all her friends learn it in case Emma wanted to talk. And Emma was beginning to show definite signs of improvement – her cheeks had taken colour, and she looked healthier and stronger, and suffered considerably less nightmares. On good days, which were happening in increasing frequency, she even slept by herself, giving her fathers the much missed (and appreciated) privacy.

-x-x-x-

But wasn't until about 8 months after Emma moved in with them, on Elliot's seventh birthday, that they knew the things had finally changed for the best.

The day started off just like any other. Elliot went to her school and Cas went to the hospital, while Emma sat through four hours of therapy and tutoring and Dean paid a visit to the garage, then went grocery shopping. Then they had a bath and ate microwaved lunch – Cas cooked before leaving – veg lasagna, because Emma refused to eat anything else, and sat down to watch  ** _Brave_** (her favourite movie, because the princess looked just like her) yet again, before their afternoon nap.

Elliot's party was held at Roadhouse, like always, and the brunette in pink dress was leading her charge all over the place greeting her school friends and their parents, accepting gifts and thanking them while Emma stuck close behind, mumbling and nodding, trying to keep up with the chatter and chatterer.

That's pretty much how it was until Ellen brought out the birthday cake. The guests gathered around whistling and cheering, drowning out the silent protests of one tiny ginger who had left her place unbeknowst to anyone else. Elliot made a wish and blew out the candle, making a cut into her cake and dislodging a huge piece to feed her mother, when a small panicked voice cut through the birthday anthem.

"Nho… nho… nho cahke. Don' geev he' de cahke… Don' geev he' de cahke…" it took about 3 minutes of searching to identify the voice as coming from the tiny redhead huddled under the table as if waiting for an explosion to go off. "De cake ees cu'sed. Tu'ns you into a bayuh." Pretty much every one gaped in shock as Cas reached in and pulled out his party pooper of a daughter, looking as deliriously happy as someone whose daughter's first words are "no cake" can be.

That was the end of celebration as Elliot refused to touch anything that was deemed  _cursed_  by her loyal sidekick, instead skipping around proudly yelling "no cake… no cake…" for all she was worth.

**.**

It was later discovered that Elliot had known Emma had started talking a couple of weeks ago and had goaded her into keeping the secret until the party, so everyone could find out at the same time. She was also the one who had explained to Emma that Ellen was about as harmless as the good-natured but incompetent witch from her movie and so there was no need to be afraid of her. That coupled with the knowledge that Ellen had made a cake especially for this event, and Emma had somehow filled the remaining dots and dashes to voice her protests out aloud.

And once she started, there was no stopping her. Emma talked about anything and everything, surpassing even Elliot because she could fill the gaps when she stopped to take her breaths with her hands and vice versa.

"She's making up for the lost time," Dean proudly replied, whenever someone asked how they could handle the redheaded whirlwind.

-x-x-x-

Not that anyone was complaining. They were just happy that she was not hiding anymore… but often times Cas questioned his sanity for letting  _Lani MacKenzie's_  birdbrained daughter have a free reign over his princess.

The first time he felt that way was when Emma started calling him "mum".

They had decided beforehand that Dean could be "dad" and he would be "papa" or something… but she insisted that he was 'mum'. "Papa," he corrected signing the word "father", but she ignored it to repeat "mother".

"Let it be, Cas," Dean replied, looking up from the books he was balancing. "I think she's just doing it to differentiate between us."

"Yeah, well why can't  _you_  be the mother then?" Cas snapped, followed by a silent "bloody fucking sexual chauvinist".

"Because you're prettier of two," Dean smirked and laughed at the bird Cas flipped him (in full view of their daughter) and even more when she thoughtlessly repeated it, much to Cas' horror.

But it wasn't until a couple of weeks later, when her therapist Dr. Naomi threw him out, again, for interfering with her  _methods_ , that he finally understood why.

"Stop acting like a fucking Mother Bear on PMS," the woman snapped, shoving him out the door - she was surprisingly strong for someone that old or that small – while Emma gave him an apologetic but "told you so" smile.

"Mother Bear," he sighed that night. "She calls me mum because she thinks I'm the… you knew, didn't you?" he added accusingly when Dean broke into a wheezing laugh.

"Well, duh…" Dean replied. "She's Merida and I'm the King  _Fer_ -gus, obviously…"

"Obviously," Cas repeated dumbstruck.

"…with my wooden leg and my silver steed…" Dean continued, not bothered about the interruption. "But Emma was pretty confused as to how you fit in, so Elliot made her understand that since you are married to the King, you had to be the Queen."

"Yeah, I'll show you just how  _queen-y_  I can be," Cas said petulantly.

"Plus you are a disciplinarian and we are all a little scarred of you," Dean said, though it sounded like it was taking a great effort to not laugh. "And of course, you turn into a Bear at the slightest notice. She's just trying to say," he added softly, taking Cas' face into his hands to look him in the eyes, "that she loves you more than she lets on."

That caused Cas to smile and he didn't bother correcting her after that, but he decided that he  _was_  going to keep an eye on Elliot Porter and make sure she didn't feed his daughter any more ridiculous theories.

* * *

_Well... a_ _t least Elliot hasn't gotten around to watching_ _ **Rise of the Guardians**_ _yet_ , he thought adding the chocolate, honey and cinnamon to the boiling milk.  _Coz that would be a recipe for disaster._

"Hey mum, you gonna join us before the night is over?" Dean called from the living room, accompanied by a very loud tearing of wrapping paper. "Because we are going through the presents faster than a freight train."

"Good," Cas shouted back. "That way everyone will be too busy to notice that I drank all the hot chocolate"  _and 5…4…3…2…_

"Nhooooo" a scream erupted, as a panicked little girl ran into the kitchen, looking more awake than someone who was practically dropping off to sleep not 15 mins ago had a right to. "You can'.  _I_  wanna ho' chocala'e with mello's."

 _That's my girl_ , Cas smirked to himself as he poured the chocolate-y concoction in a yellow mug with duck feet and added flavoured marshmallows to it. "Okay?" he showed her the bounty, and she nodded her approval. "Now go and wait under the Gifting Tree," he slapped her butt, urging her on, and straightened. He brought out two more mugs, poured rest of the drink into them, topping them with rum and "mellos". He set everything on a tray and carried it outside.

As expected he found Emma and Dean sitting a sea of torn paper and smiled, moving in direction of his family. "Took a lot of time," Dean smiled, accepting the cup and pecking him lightly on the lips.

"Yes, well, can't screw up the Potion of Sleep," he replied in a conspiratorial whisper, sipping his drink. "I thought we agreed on only one present each."

"Well…" Dean grinned and sheepishly rubbed his neck. "We wanted to… but we couldn't decide which one. So…" and pushed one of the wrapped boxes towards him.

Cas laughed, and proceeded to tear open the wrapping paper, inspiring Emma to create more mess than she and Dean had initially created.

* * *

Later that night, when the house is finally silent and the warm body pressed into his is snoring softly, Cas closes his eyes and listens to their daughter's breathing from the next room.

He hasn't told Dean, he doubts if he ever will, but sometimes he feels that Dean was right all those years ago, when he said that Cas would start feeling trapped. Sometimes he does… sometimes he even thinks about running… and he knows Dean would never stop him. Dean would most probably hand him the Impala and tell him to make his own road… follow his own heart.

But then he looks into the green eyes of the man who loves him or listens to the small voice that calls him 'mum' and feeds him ridiculous stories she learnt from her friends. He wonders about Emma starting school and growing old with his Major and knows that he made the right decision when he decided to seek out that one person who shone like a beacon in his darkness.

Dean always says that Cas saved his life, but, in truth, it was Dean who saved him. When Nick died Cas was lost... broken... and Dean was the one who guided him back... put him back together. It was Dean who have him back his family, a life he always wanted…

"Go to sleep, Cas," Dean says drowsily, patting his cheek, then trailing his hand down Cas' body until it's resting between his thighs. "I can actually hear you think."

"Freak," he replies, turning around to press a kiss into the nearest part of the body behind him, then burrow deeply into his arms.

 _No,_  he tells himself,  _I am not trapped. I'm finally home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **And Cut!**
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> And now, I'm gonna go totally OoC and Beg for Reviews. I need at least 121 new ones, considering you are my regulars. Everyone else, I'd really love to hear what you have to say to me. C'mon people, feed some scraps, I'm waiting...


	19. Soundtrack Listing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> List of Songs used throughout

**Title** : Nothing Else Matters - Metallica (Trust Me! Lyrics baby... lyrics)

**Part 1:**

\- Highway to Hell - AC/DC [Opening. Dean sings at Roadhouse]  
\- Dear Mr. Fantasy - Traffic [Dean sulks in his van]  
\- The Ocean - Led Zeppellin [Dean's song for Dee]  
\- On My Way - Phil Collins and Jeremy Suarez [Cas' entry, Dean remembers him]  
\- Journey to the Past - Aaliyah [Dean overhears Cas sing]  
\- Stairway to Heaven - Led Zeppellin [Dean and Cas in the van]

* * *

**Part 2:**

\- Here is a heart - Jenny Owens [Cas makes breakfast for Dean, Dean questions his intentions]  
\- The Ocean - Led Zeppellin [Dean and Cas sing to Dee]

* * *

**Part 3:**

\- Today My Life Begins - Bruno Mars (Background) [Cas sings to himself, Dean watches]  
\- November Rain - Guns and Roses [Cas' proposition]

* * *

**Part 4 (First Date):**

\- Stairway to Heaven, Ramble On - Led Zeppelin [Their favourite songs]  
\- Angel with a Shotgun - The Cab [Nicky's Song for Cas]

* * *

**Part 5.A:**

\- Who Needs Shelter - Jason Mraz [Dean wakes up]  
\- Friday - Rebecca Black [Dean gets out of the bed]  
\- When You Say Nothing At All - Ronan Keating [Dean apologizes to Cas]  
\- I'll Stand by You - Shakira (background)[Cas comforts Dean after the flashback]

-x-x-x-

**Part 5.B:**

\- Enter Sandman - Metallica [Cas comforts Dean]

* * *

**Part 6 (First Time):**

\- Love Me Tender - Elvis [Slow sex]  
\- So Close - Jon Mclaughlin,  _ **Enchanted**  _OST [Climax]  
\- More than Words - Extreme [They sleep]

* * *

**Part 7.B:**

\- You'll Be In My Heart - Phil Collins [Nicky's lullaby for Baby Claire]

-x-x-x-

**Part 7.C:**

\- Hips Don't Lie - Shakira [Cas dances, Claire looks on]  
\- Sway - Michael Buble [Cas-Claire dance]

* * *

**Part 8 (Wedding):**

\- Nothing Else Matters - Metallica (Instrumental) [Cas' entrance music]  
\- At The Beginning - Richard Marx and Donna Lewis,  _ **Anastasia**_  [Wedding Vows]

* * *

**Part 9 (Reception):**

\- Arms - Christina Perri (1st V., Celine solo),  
Rhythm Divine - Enrique, (2nd V., Dick solo)  
Heat of the Moment - Asia (Chorus, Band chorus) [Grooms' Entrance]  
\- Save the Last Dance [Dean tells Cas to dance]  
\- I like to move it - Penguins of Madagascar [Jo-Cas-Claire dance]  
\- Could I Have This Dance - Ann Murray [Last dance]

* * *

**Part 10.C (Reconciliation):**

\- Tonight I wanna cry - Keith Urban [Dean drinks himself to almost death]  
\- Arms - Christina Perri [Dean confesses he's scared]

* * *

**Part 11 (Pre-Epilogue):**

\- Trail We Blaze,  
\- Born to be Wild [Road Trip]

* * *

**Part 12 (Epilogue):**

\- White Christmas - Dean Martin


End file.
